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THE 


Arkansas  Teayeller's 

0 

SON"aSTER : 


CONTAINING  THB 


Celebrated  Story  of  the 
Arkansas  Traveller, 

With  the  Music  for 
Violir  ox  Piano* 


AlTD  ALSO 


Ad  Extensive  and 

Choice  Collection  of 
New  and  Popular 

Comic  and  Sentimental  Songs 


BEW  TOBR: 
DICK    &    FITZGERALD,    PUBLISHBBS 

18  Aim  Strxbt. 


{iU^2 


Entond  MO'jrdta;  to  Act  of  Cong?eM  in  the  jear  1864,  hj 
DICK    b    FITZGERALD, 
•  •  ,*    *4i  tte  Glirt;i  (SiaitK^  t^  Ipitrlot  Conn  for  the  Sonthern  Diatriet  of  Nev  Tort. 


^lonttnti. 


rAoa 

A  lOTTLB  SONO   OF  LiTTLE  ThIMM 82 

All  Mankin£)  arb  Worms 19 

Am  I  NOX  FONDLY  THINE   OWN  ? 81 

Annie  Laurie  48 

A  Very  Good  Hand  at  it 87 

Bachelor  Barney  O'^eil 62 

OniSELLING  THE   BtRl»AL-CnrB 89 

Ck)MB,  eiT  Thee  down 86 

Doctor  OToolb 66 

Don  Giovanni 47 

Flow  OENTLf,  Swbbt  Afton  ^ 67 

HiooiNs'g  Ball 67 

Highland  Mary 84 

Td  be  a  Bluk-Bottle 86 

Tll  be  no  Submissive  Wifk 60 

Jake  Schneider's  Daughtbe 26 

Jane  O'Malley 68 

Kathleen  O'Eegan 81 

Katty  O'Rann 28 

Little  more  Cider 80 

LoDGiNQS  IN  Pat  McGaradie's M 

Meet  Me,  Miss  Molly  Malonb 65 

Money  is  tour  Only  Friend 16 

Mt  Own  Native  Land 27 

No!  Nol tl 


§11814 


4  COKTEM'B. 

Oh,  whistle,  and  I'll  come  to  You,  my  Lad .  4* 

Paddy  O'FlanacTan '. y 

Parody  on  "Mother.  Fvk  come  Home  to  die'' ^ 

Philip  the  Falconer > 

Pkayer-Books  and  Corkscrews £>. 

RORY  O'MORB 4f 

Root,  Hoo,  or  die .  * 

8ai  Bkill  and  Squinting  Will 8^ 

Sue  was  Sister  to  the  Angels 29 

Social  Sentiments 71 

The  Arkansas  Traveller 5 

The  Banks  (  )f  Claudy 56 

The  Dutch  Musician 9 

The  Fine  Ouli>  Irish  Gintleman     ,   ..-..  60 

The  Gay  Little  Postman    63 

The  Hazel-L>ell 59 

The  Humbugged  Hushand .  44 

The  Indian's  Pkayp:k , 42 

The  Landlady  of  V rance 58 

The  Neutral  English  Gentleman o....   19 

The  Sailor-Boy's  Good-uy 4fl 

The  Seven  Days'  F  ight 14 

The  Shield,  the  Fishkall,  and  the  Se wing-Machine 28 

The  Theatre  on  a  Benefit  Night 17 

I  H7    Wedded  Bachelor 20 

Fit  for  Tat 88 

Toasts  for  All  Times 71 

Vaoob  Schnapps  and  Pkder  Schpikk 4k 


TFE 


AEKANSA3   TRAYELLER'S 

SONG-BOOK. 


THE  AEKANS'AS  TRAVELLEE. 

By  MosE  Cask. 

(Pnulished,  in  sheet-music  form,  by  Blodgett  &  Bradkohd,  MubIo 
Publif^hers.  Buffalo.) 

This  piece  is  intended  to  represent  an  Eastern  man's  ex- 
perience among  tl>e  inhabitants  of  Arkansas,  showing  their 
hospitality  and  tlie  mode  of  obtaininj::^  it. 

Several  years  since,  ho  was  travelling  the  staUb  to  Little 
Rock,  the  capital.  In  those  days,  railroads  had  not  been 
heard  of,  and  the  stage-lines  were  very  limited;  so,  under 
the  circumstances,  he  was  obliged  to  travel  the  whole  dis- 
tance on  foot.  One  evening,  about  dusk,  he  came  across  a 
small  log  house,  standing  fifteen  or  twenty  yards  from  the 
road,  and  enclosed  by  a  low  rail  fence  of  the  most  primitive 
description.  In  the  doorway  sat  a  man,  playing  a  violin  • 
the  tune  was  the  then  most  popular  air  in  that  region — 
namely,  "  The  Arkansas  Traveller."  He  kept  repeating  the 
larst  part  of  the  tune  over  and  over  again,  as  he  could  not 
pluy  the  second  part.  At  the  time  the  traveller  reached 
the  house  it  was  raining  very  hard,  and  he  was  anxious  to 
obtain  shelter  from  the  storm.  The  house  looked  like  any 
thing  but  a  shelter,  as  it  was  covered  with  clapboards,  and 
'he  rain  was  leaking  into  every  part  of  i^  The  old  marj'a 
laughter  Sarah  appeared  to  be  getting  supper,  while  a 
1* 


THE   ARKANSAS  TRATELLER. 

small  boy  was  setting  tlie  table,  and  the  old  lady  sat  in  the 
doorway  near  her  husband,  admiring  the  music. 

I'he  stranger,  on  coming  up,  said,  "How  do  you  do?" 
The  man  merely  glanced  at  him,  and,  continuing  to  play 
replied,  "  I  do  as  I  please." 

Stranger,  How  long  have  you  been  living  here? 

Old  Man.  D'ye  see  that  mountain  thar?  Well,  that  was 
thar  when  I  come  here. 

S.  Can  I  stay  here  to-night? 

0.  M.  No  1  ye  can't  stay  here. 

>S.  How  long  will  it  take  me  to  get  to  the  next  tavern  ? 

0.  M.  We^l,  you'll  not  get  thar  at  all,  if  you  stand  thar 
fooliu'  with  me  all  ni.ghtl     (Plays.) 


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THE    ARKANSAS   TRAVELLER. 


■    S.  "Well,  how  far  do  you  call  it  to  the  next  tavern? 

0.  M.  I  reckon  it's  upwards  of  some  distance  !  {Pktyk 
ugain,  as  above.) 

S.  I  am  very  dry — do  you  keep  any  spirits  in  your 
house  ? 

0.  M.  Do  you  think  my  house  is  haunted?  They  say^ 
thar's  plenty  down  in  the  graveyard.     (Plays  a^  before) 

S.  How  do  they  cross  this  river  ahead  ? 

0.  M.  The  ducks  all  swim  across.     {Plays  as  before.) 

S.   Row  far  is  it  to  the  forks  of  the  road  ? 

0.  M.  I've  been  livin'  here  nigh  on  twenty  years,  and  no 
road  ain't  forked  yit.     {Pluys  as  before.) 

S.  Give  me  some  satisfaction,  if  you  please,  sir.  Where 
does  this  road  go  to  ? 

0.  M.  Well,  it  hain't  moved  a  step  since  I've  been  hero. 
{Plays  as  before.) 

S,  Why  don't  you  cover  your  house?     It  leaks, 

0.  M.   'Cause  it's  rainin'. 

>S^.  Then  why  don't  you  cover  it  when  it's  not  raining? 

0.  M.  'Cause  it  don't  leak.     {Plays  as  before.) 

S.   Why  don't  you  play  the  second  part  of  that  tune  ? 

0.  M.  If  you're  a  better  player  than  I  am,  you  can  play 
It  yourself.  I'll  bring  the  fiddle  out  to  you — I  don't  want 
you  in  here  1    {Stranger  plays  the  second  part  of  the  tune.) 


tFf 


0.  M.  Git  over  the  fence,  and  come  in  and  sit  down — T 
didn't  know  you  could  play.  You  can  board  here,  if  you 
want  to.  Kick  that  dog  off  that  stool,  and  set  down  and 
play  it  over — I  want  to  hear  it  agin.  {Stranger  plays  the 
second  part  again.) 

0.  M.  Our  supper  is  ready  now :  won't  you  have  some 
with  us? 

S.  If  you  please. 

0.  M,  What  will  you  take,  tea  or  coffee  ? 

S,  A  cup  of  tea,  if  you  please. 

0.  M.   Sail,  git  the  grubbin'-hoe,  and  go  dig  some  j 
fras,  quick  1     (  Old  man  plays  the  first  part.) 


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THE   DUTCH    MUSICIAN. 


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S.  (to  the  little  hoy).  Bub,  give  me  a  kuife  and  fork,  if  you 
please. 

Boy.  "We  hain't  got  no  knives  and  forks,  sir, 

S.   Then  give  n>e  a  spoon. 

B.   We  hain't  got  no  spoons  neither. 

S.   Well,  then,  how  do  you  do  ? 

B.  Tolerable,  thank  you;  how  do  you  do,  sir?  {did 
man  plays  the  first  part  again  !) 

The  stranger,  lindin^g  such  poor  accommodations,  and 
thinking  his  condition  could  be  bettered  by  leaving,  soou 
departed,  and  at  last  succeeded  in  finding  a  tavern,  with 
better  fare.  He  has  never  had  the  courage  to  visit  Arkan- 
sas since  1 


THE  DUTCH  MUSICIAN. 

A  Favorite  Serio- Comic  German  BufFo  Song, 

As  sung  by  Tony  Pastor. 

(JfoTB. — For  the  benefit  of  the  English  reader,  this  song  is  given 
with  the  words  spelled  as  pronounced  in  our  language.  As  it  ia 
In  the  original,  a  duett,  we  give  it  here  as  such,  although  sung  by 
Mr.  Pastoe  as  a  solo,  and  with  immense  success.) 


Shanus  maMschen,  wans  canst  du  mauken  ? 
Canst  du  shpiela?  canst  du  shpiela? 

SHE. 

Ich  can  spiel  so  kliena  trumm^l, 

Rub-a-dub-a-dub  1  dans  iest  mien  trammel ' 


10  THE  DUTCH   MUSICIAN. 

HE. 

ISlianus  maidschen,  wans  canst  du  mauken? 
Canst  du  shpiela?  causi  du  shpiela? 

SHE. 

Ich  can  spiel  so  kliena  fifel, 

Swill-li- Willi- wil!  dans  iest  mien  fifel  1 
Rub-a-dub-a-dub !  dans  iest  mi-en  trummel; 
My  swil-li-willi-wil ! 
My  rub-a-dub-a-dub ! 

Dans  iest  mien  trummel  I 

HE. 

Shanus  maidschen,  wans  canst  du  mauken  7 
Canst  du  shpiela?  canst  du  shpiela? 

SHE. 

Ich  can  spiel  so  l^iena  gyka, 
Fallk-la-la  1   dans  iest  mien  gyka; 
Swil-li-willi-wil  1    dans  iest  mien  fifel; 
Rub-a-dub-a-dub  1   dans  iest  mien  trummel; 

My  falla-la-la ! 

Ky  swil-li-willi-wil  1 

My  rub-a-dub-a-dub  1 

Dans  iest  mien  trummel  I 

HE. 

Shanus  maidschen,  wans  canst  du  mauken? 
Canst  du  shpiela  ?  canst  du  shpiela  ? 

SHE. 

Ich  can  spiel  so  kliosa  bassgyke — 
Zoora-zoom-zoom !  dans  iest  mien  bassgyke ! 
Falla-la-la  I   dans  i.est  mien  gyka; 
Swil-li-wil-li-wil  1   dans  iest  mien  fifel ; 
Rub-a-dub-a-dub!  dans  iest  mien  trummel; 

My  zoom-zoora-zoom  I 

My  falla-la-la ! 

My  swil-li-willi-wil  1 

My  rub-a-dub-a-dub  1 

Dans  iest  mien  trummel  I 


THE   UUTCH   MUSlCl^xN'.  11 

HE. 

Shanus  maidschen,  wans  cpnst  du  maukea? 
Canst  du  shpiela?  canst  du  shpiela? 

SHE. 

Ich  can  spiel  so  kliena  bombass — 

Tra-ra-ral  dans  iest  mien  borcbaas; 
Zoom-zoom-zoo rn  I    dans  iest  mien  bassgykoj 
Falla-la-la  1   dans  iest  mien  gyka  I 
Swil-li-willi-wil  I   dans  iest  mien  fifel; 
Rub-a-dub-a-dub !   dans  iest  mien  trammel. 

My  tra-ra-ra  1 

My  zoom-zoora-zoom ! 

My  falla-la-la! 

My  swil-li-wiUi-wil  1 

My  rub-a-dub-a-dub  ! 

Dans  iest  mien  trummel  I 

HE. 

Shanus  maidschen,  wans  canst  du  mauken? 
Canst  du  shpiela  ?  canst  du  shpiela  ? 

SHE. 

Ich  can  spiel  so  kliem.  triangle — 

Hic-moc-moc !   dans  iest  mien  triangle ; 
Tra-ra-ral  dans  iest  mien  bombass; 
Zoom-zoora-zoom'   dans  iest  mien  bassgyke; 
Falla-la-la  I  dans  icst  mien  gyka; 
Swil-li-willi-wil  I   dans  iest  mien  fifel ; 
Rub-a-dub-a-dub  I  dans  iest  mien  trummel ; 

My  hic-moc-moc  I 

My  tra-ra-ra  1 

My  zoora-zoom-zooml 

My  falla-la-la  1 

My  swil-li-willi-wil  1 

My  rub-a-dub-a-dub ! 

Dans  iest  mien  trummel! 

HE. 

Shanus  maidschen,  wans  canst  du  mauken  ? 
Canst  du  shpiela  ?  canst  du  shpi-ela  ? 


IS  THE  NELrRAL  ENGLISH   GBNTLEMAH. 

SHE. 
Ich  can  spiel  so  kliena  drudlesock — 

Qua-qua-qua  1  dans  iest  mien  drudlesock ; 
Hic-moc-moc  1   dans  iest  mien  triangle ; 
Tra-ra-ra!   dans  iast  mien  bombass; 
Zoom-zoom-zoom  1   dans  iest  mien  bassgyke; 
Falla-la-la  !    dans  iest  mien  gyka; 
Swil-li-willi-wil  !    dans  iest  mien  fifel; 
Rub-a-dub-a-dub  !   dans  iest  mien  trummeL 

My  qua-qua-qua  ! 

My  hic-moc-moc! 

My  tra-ra-ra  1 

My  zoom-zoom-zoom ! 

My  falla-la-la ! 

My  swil-li-willi-wil  1 

My  rub-a-dub-a-dub  1 

Dans  iest  mien  trumme)  * 


THE  NEUTRAL  ENQLISF  GENTLEMAN. 

AiK — "Fine  Old  Engliah  Gentleman." 

EnceUp^'^d  in  his  island -home  that  lies  beyond  the  sea, 
BehoM  the  gre-at  original  and  genuine  "  'Tis  He;" 
A  paunchy,  fuming  son  of  beef,  with  double  weight  of  chin, 
And  eyes  that  were  benevolent,  but  for  their  singular  ten- 
dency to  turn  green  whenever  it  is  remarked  that  his 
irrepressible    American   cousins   have   made   another 
treaty  with  China  ahead  of  him,  and  taken  Albion  in — 
This  neutral  English  gentleman,  one  of  the  modern  time. 

With  "William,  Duke  of  Normandy,  his  ancestors,  he  boasts, 
dame  over  from  the  shores  of  France  to  whip  the  Saxon 

hosts : 
Ind  this  he  makes  a  source  of  pride ;  but  wherefore  there 

should  be 
4uch  credit  to  an  Englishman,  in  the  fact  that  he  is  de- 
scended from  a  nation  which  England  is  forever  pre- 
tending to  regard  as  slightly  her  inferior  in   every 


THE  NEUTRAL  ENGLISH  GENTLEMAN.       18 

thinfi^  and  particularly  behind  her  in  nwlitary  and  na- 
val affairs,  we  cannot  really  see — 
This  neutral  English  gentleman,  one  of  the  modern  time. 

He  deals  in  Christianity — Episcopalian  brand — 
And  sends  his  missionaries  forth  to  bully  heathen-land; 
Just  mention  "slavery"  to  him,  and,  with  a  joyous  sigh, 
HeUl  say  it's  'orrid,  scandalous,  although  he  is  ready  t4 
fight  for  the  cotton  raised  by  slaves,  and  forgets  ho\¥ 
he  bothered  the  Chinese  to  make  them  take  opium ; 
and  blew  the  Sepoys  from  the  guns  because  the  poor 
devils  refused  to  be  enslaved  by  the  East  India  Com- 
pany, or  phi-Ian -thro-py — 
This  neutral  English  gentleman,  one  of  the  modern  time. 

He  yields  to  Brother  Jonathan  a  love  that  passeth  sliow: 
**  We're  Hanglo-Saxons,  both  of  us,  and  can't  be  foes,  you 

know" — 
But,  *as  a  Christian  gentleman,  he  cannot,  cannot  hide 
His  horror  of  the  spectacle  of  four  millions  of  black  beisgs 
being  held  in  bondage  by  a  nation  professing  the  largest 
liberty  in  the  world ;  though,  in  case  of  an  anti-slavery 
crusade,  the  interest  of  his  Manchester  factors  would 
imperatively  forbid  him  to  take  part  on  either  side — 
This  neutral  English  gentleman,  one  of  the  modern  time. 

Now  seeing  the  said  Jonathan  by  base  rebellion  stirred. 
And  battling  with  pro-slavery,  it  might  be  thence  inferred 
That  British  hearts  would  be  with  us  in  this  most  holy  strife ; 
But  instead  of  that,  John  Bull's  sympathy  is  labelled  "  Neu- 
trality," and  consigned  to  any  rebel  port  not  too  closely 
blockaded  to  permit  English  vessels  loaded  with  muni- 
tions to  slip  in.    And  when  you  ask  Mr.  Bull  what  he 
meant  by  his  inconsistent  conduct,  he  becomes  notori- 
ously indignant,  rolls  up  his  eyes,  and  says,  "I  can't 
endure  to  see  brothers  murdering  each  other,  and  keep- 
ing me  out  of  my  cotton — I  can't,  upon  my  life" — 
rhis  neutral  British  gentleman,  one  of  the  modern  time. 

Supposing  Mr.  Bull  should  die,  the  question  might  arise, 
"  Will  he  be  wanted  down  below,  or  wafted  to  the  skies  ?" 
2 


14  THE   SEVEN    DAYS'   FIGHT. 

Allowing  thart  he  had  his  choice,  it  really  seems  to  me, 
The  moFal  Eiigliiiri  gentleman  would  choose  a  front  seM 
with  his  Infernal  Majesty:  since  Milton,  in  his  blank- 
verse  correspondence  with  old  Thne,  more  than  once 
hinted  the  possibility  of  Nick's  rebellion  against  Heaven 
succeeding.  And  as  the  Lower  Secessia  has  cottoned 
to  England  through  numerous  Ha^noverian  reigns,  such 
a  choice  on  the  part  of  the  pliilanthropical  Britisher 
would  be  simply  another  specimen  of  his  neutral-i-ty — 
The  neutral  British  gentleman,  one  of  the  modern  time. 


THE  SEVEN  DAYS'  FiaHT. 

AiE — "  Louisiana  Lowlands." 

*Way  down  in  Old  Virginia,  not  many  months  ago, 
McClellan  made  a  movement — he  made  it  very  slow; 
The  rebels  they  soon  found  it  out,  and  pitched  into  our  rear; 
They  got  the  very  d — 1,  for  they  found  old  Kearney  there  I 

Chorus. 
In  the  old  Virginia  Lowlands,  Lowlands,  Lowlands, 
In  the  old  Virginia  Lowlands,  k)wl 

Again  at  Savage'  Station,  we  met  the  rebel  foe — 

That  General  Sumner  whipped  them,  their  list  of  killed  will 

shofw; 
Then  "  Fighting  Josy  Hooker"  came  up  with  his  train— -- 
He  met  them  on  the  third  day,  and  whipped  them  over 

again. 

In  the  old,  etc. 

The  rebels  they  still  followed  us,  their  numbers  two  to  one, 
But  Little  Mac  he  let  them  know  that  Yankees  would  not 

run 
Mac  thought  that  he  would  stop  the  fun,  and  bring  it  to  an 

end — 
The  only  way  to  do  that  was,  for  Couch's  men  to  send. 
In  the  old,  etc. 


THE   SEVEN   DAYS'    FIGHT.  1ft 

WTien  we  heard  that  Mac  had  sent  for  us,  with  joy  our 
hearts  did  fill, 

And  we  were  quickly  ready  on  the  top  of  Malvern  hill ; 

The  rebels  they  commenced  the  fight,  but  we  were  not  dis- 
mayed— 

They  might  as  well  have  met  the  de'il,  as  Howe  and  hia 
brigade  1 

In  the  old,  etc. 

The  rebels  they  began  the  fight  by  throwing  shot  and 

shell: 
That  was  a  game,  they  soon  found  out,  that  Couch's  men 

could  them  excel. 
We  fought  them  from  the  morning's  dawn  until  the  setting 

sun — 
Among  the  killed  and  wounded,  why,  they  had  three  to 

onel 

In  the  old,  etc. 

The  Ninety-third — the  Twenty-third — were  early  on  the 
ground ; 

The  Sixty-first,  New  York  Chasseurs,  soon  showed  them- 
selves around ; 

Then  came  the  First  Long  Island — we  all  did  our  work 
quite  well, 

As  many  a  wounded  rebel  from  experience  can  tell. 
In  the  old,  etc. 

When  we  came  to  James  River,  the  boys  began  to  cheer, 
As  they  saw  the  little  Monitor — up  the  river  she  did  steer. 
The  rel3el  General  got  scared,  and  unto  his  men  did  say — 
"  Here  comes  a  Yankee  earthquake,  we'd  better  gel  away.'* 
In  the  old,  etc. 

Now,  all  ye  politicians,  a  word  I  have  for  you  : 
Let  our  Little  Mac  alone,  for  he  is  tried  and  true ; 
And  you  have  found  out  lately  that  he  is  our  only  hope— 
For  twice  he  saved  the  capital — likewise  McDowell  and 
Pope. 

In  the  old,  etc. 


16  MONET  IS   TOUR   ONLT   JillEND. 

Now  I  think  I  will  finish,  and  bring  it  to  an  end, 

"With   three  cheers   for  Little   Mac — he's  every  aoldier'a 

friend : 
I  would  like  all  agitators  and  politicians  to  understand, 
If  one  can  save  the  Union,  why  Little  Mac's  the  man. 
In  the  old,  etc. 


MONEY  IS  TOUR  ONLY  PEIEND. 

A  Matter-of-Fact  Comic  Song. 

AiB — "  Green  grow  the  Rushes,  O  I" 

Of  friendship  I  have  heard  ranch  talk; 

But  you  will  find  it,  in  the  end, 
That  if  distressed  at  any  time, 

Then  money  is  your  only  friend. 
Chorus — Yes,  money  is  your  only  friend 
Money  is  your  only  friend  ; 
Where'er  you  go,  you'll  find  it  so — 
You  must  have  money  for  to  spend 

If  you  are  sick,  and  like  to  die, 
And  for  the  doctor  then  you  send, 

Tou  must  to  him  advance  a  fee — 
Then  money  is  your  only  friend. 

Yes,  money,  etc. 

If  you  should  have  a  suit  at  law, 

On  which  you  all  your  hopes  depend, 

The  lawyers  want  to  see  your  cash — 
Then  money  is  your  only  f>iend. 

Yes,  money,  etc. 

Then  let  me  have  a  store  of  gold, 

From  every  ill  it  will  defend : 
In  every  exigence  of  life. 

Dear  money  is  your  only  friend. 

Yes,  money,  etc 


THE   THEATRE  ON   A   BENEFIT   NIGHT.  H 

IHE  THEATRE  ON  A  BENEFIT  NIGHT  f 

Or,  the  Bowery  Third  Tier. 

AiB— "  Paddy's  Ciirioslty-Bhop." 

&£b.  Blubbs  is  my  name,  you  must  know, 

And  I'm  a  genteel  sort  of  man; 
A  nice  little  wife  I  have  got, 

Whom  I  always  treat  wh^en  I  can. 
To  the  theatre  we  went  'tother  night — 

'Twas  a  benefit  night,  d'ye  see ; 
A  rich  treat  I  thought  we  should  have, 

And  so  thought  ray  sweet  Mrs.  B. 

Chxyrus, 
There's  a  small  chance  of  seeing  the  sighta, 

It's  a  fact,  as  my  song  it  will  show, 
To  those  who  on  benefit  nights 

To  the  Bowery  Theatre  will  go. 

'Twas  six  when  our  lodgings  we  left, 

And  to  the  theatre  we  went ; 
But  the  crowd  there  it  soon  got  so  great, 

All  manner  of  shapes  we  were  bent. 
At  length  up  the  stairs  we  were  crammed  ^ 

Some  joked,  and  called  it  a  spree, 
To  see  how  my  limbs  they  were  jammed. 

In  protecting  my  dear  Mrs.  B. 

There's  a  small  chance,  etc. 

In  the  third  tier  we  quickly  were  poked ; 

Of  our  purses  we  both  soon  were  eased; 
We  were  stuck  'mongst  a  lot  of  fast  ladies, 

Who  seemed  to  act  just  as  they  pleased. 
The  place  was  so  dreadfully  liot, 

With  myself,  'gad,  it  didn't  agree; 
It  soon  made  me  awfully  sick, 

And  so  it  made  poor  Mrs.  B. 

There's  a  small  chance,  etc 
2* 


18  THE   THEATRE   ON   A   BENEFIT  NIGHT. 

"We  didn't  know  what  for  to  do, 

For  we  couldn't  make  our  way  out; 
"We  were  jammed  up  like  plums  in  a  puddingy 

And  were  shamefully  knocked  all  about. 
"You  fool,  take  your  hat  off!"  says  one; 

And  another,  alluding  to  me, 
Says,  "I  wonder  where  he  picked  her  up?" 

What  an  insult  to  poor  Mrs.  B. ! 

There's  a  small  chance,  etc. 

At  last  we  got  settled  a  bit, 

Not  heeding  at  all  what  was  said; 
But  we  hadn't  been  sitting  down  long, 

"When  I  got  such  a  thump  on  the  head  I 
My  hat  was  knocked  over  my  eyes. 

And  I  was  quickly  unable  to  see : 
"Lord!  I  want  to  skedaddle,"  says  I; 

"So  do  I,"  says  my  dear  Mrs.  B. 

There's  a  small  chance,  etc. 

"We  managed  to  squeeze  our  way  out — 

My  nose  being  nearly  cut  in  two; 
My  wife's  clothes  were  all  sadly  torn. 

And  my  visage  was  quite  black  and  bludi 
I  went  off  to  get  my  wounds  dressed. 

But  the  doctor  first  asked  for  his  fee : 
I  hadn't  a  postage-stamp  left. 

And  neither  had  poor  Mrs.  B. 

There's  a  small  chance,  etc. 

"We  made  the  best  haste  to  our  home, 

And  a  pretty  nice  state  we  were  in — 
Broken  nose,  broken  bonnet  and  hat. 

And  our  pockets  both  eased  of  their  tin ! 
And,  although  we  went  to  the  play, 

Not  the  first  single  scene  dixi  we  see: 
I  ne'er  went  to  the  theatre  since. 

Nor  I  never  brought  sweet  Mrs.  B. 

There's  a  small  chance,  etc. 


ALL   MANKIND  ARE   WORMS. 

ALL  MANKIND  ARE  WORMS. 

A  nlghly  Popular  Oomic  Song. 

Bung  by  all  the  Comic  Vocalista. 

Air — "  Bow,  wow,  wow  I'' 

As  all  we  mortals  turn  to  clay, 

When  closed  our  mortal  terras,  sir, 
I  t'ink  we  may  with  reason  say 

That  all  mankind  are  worms,  sir. 
But  as  there's  some  may  doubt  this  truth, 

And  I  like  to  be  exact,  sir, 
Tour  patience  kindly  grant  me,  while 

I'll  try  to  prove  the  fact,  sir. 

Chorus — Bow,  wow,  wow,  eta 

The  Dandy  he's  a  tape-worm, 

Made  up  of  stays  and  lace,  sir; 
The  Tailor  he's  a  cabbage-worm. 

That  cuts  your  leaves  with  grace,  sir. 
The  Lover  he's  a  glow-worm, 

That  shines  but  to  allure,  sir; 
The  Husband  he's  a  ring-worm, 

That  old  wives  best  can  cure,  sir. 

Bow,  wow,  wow,  etc. 

The  Glutton  he's  a  meal-worm. 

Still  feeding  night  and  day,  sir; 
The  Drunkard  he's  a  still-worm, 

That  drinks  his  all  away,  sir. 
The  Brewer  he's  a  malt-worm, 

A  very 'jolly  one,  sir; 
The  Farmer  he's  a  grub-worm. 

That  grubs  on  in  the  sun,  sir. 

Bow,  wow,  wow,  eta 

The  Scholar  he's  a  book-worm, 
That  best  on  learning  feeds,  sir; 

The  Mi»er  h«'s  a  mnck-worm. 
That  on  a  dunghill  breeds,  sir. 


THE  WEDDED  BaOHELOE. 

The  Rogue  he's  but  a  blind-worm, 
That  works  on  in  the  dark,  sir; 

The  Coquette  she's  a  bait-worm, 
That  a-ngles  far  a  spark,  sir. 

Bow,  wow,  wow,  etc 

The  Idler  he's  a  slow- worm, 

"With  laziness  he's  rife,  sir; 
The  Soldier  he's  a  blood-worm, 

Still  feeding  upon  hfe,  sir  I 
A  Maki  she  is  a  si  Ik- worm, 

That  changes  every  way,  sir; 
And  Love  "  a  worm  i'  the  bud"  is, 

That  eats  our  peace  away,  sir. 

Bow,  wow,  wow,  eta 

And  thus  I  think  I've  proved  to  you 

That  all  mankind  are  worms,  sir — 
Of  different  kinds  and  natures,  too. 

And  different  shapes  and  forms,  sir: 
And  since  that  all  our  bodies  go 

To  the  worms  at  our  tail-end,  sir, 
Let's  hope,  like  jolly  butterflies, 

That  we  may  all  ascend,  sir ! 

Bow,  wow,  wow,  eta 


THE  WEDDED  BACHELOR. 

A  New  Parody. 

Not  a  drum  was  heard,  not  a  signal-note, 
As  the  parties  to  the  altar  we  hurried; 

But  each  person  took  their  farewell  look 
Of  the  bachelor  about  to  be  married. 

"We  married  him  quickly,  at  dead  of  night, 
The  state  of  bachelorhood  turning, 

By  the  struggling  moonbeams'  misty  light, 
And  our  candles  dimly  burning. 


PAD!       «v  FLANAGAN. 

satins  enclosed  his  breast, 
costly  attire  surround  him; 
to  the  bachelor's  plain  style  of 
the  priest's  cloaK  iblded  around  him. 

and  short  were  the  prayers  we  said, 
And  \^e  spoke  not  a  word  of  sorrow; 
"Sui,  as  we  gazed  in  his  face,  we  plainly  read 
That  he  bitterly  thought  of  th^  morrow ! 

We  thought,  as  we  stroked  down  his  narrow  bed, 

And  smoothed  his  h)nely  pillow, 
How  the  mop  and  the  broomstick  would  fly  o^er  his  head| 

And  we  far  away  on  the  billow. 

Lightly  they'll  talk  of  the  one  that's  gone, 
And  before  his  dear  spouse  upbra'id  him ; 

But  they'll  little  expect,  if  they  let  him  pass  on, 
He'll  follow  the  samples  they've  made  him. 

But  half  of  our  heavy  task  was  done. 

When  the  bell  tolled  the  hour  for  retiring ; 

And  we  knew,  by  the  jingling  and  rattling  of  tins, 
That  a  horning  was  about  transpiring. 

Sadly  and  dearly  he  did  repent 

Of  the  step  taken  in  matrimony; 
Almost  broken-hearted  he  did  lament — 

"  Oh,  leave  me  alone  for  my  glory  I" 


PADDY  OTLANAGIN. 

TwAS  Paddy  O'Flanagan  set  out  one  morning 

From  Dublin,  sweet  city,  to  London  on  foot. 
In  an  old  tattered  jacket,  all  foppery  scorning, 

With  a  shoe  on  his  leg  and  his  neck  in  a  boot. 
Musha  whack  1  in  no  time  he  walked  over  the  water, 

And  soon  set  his  head  on  England's  famed  shore; 
Willie  for  joy  ot  his  safety  his  stomach  did  totter— 

He  suun  teddy  O'Reilly  and  Molly  Asthore, 


%2  PADDY   O' FLANAGAN. 

With  his  phililu  hubbuboo  huj?amaurainee, 
Musha  gra,  botheration,  and  smalliloo  huh  I 

1  place  he  soon  got  when  in  London  arrived,  sir, 

To  brush  up  a  gemman,  and  wait  on  his  coat — 
Where  he  soon  learned  to  know  that  jist  four  beans  make 
five,  sir, 

And  could  tell  you  a  tale  with  his  tongue  down  his  throat. 
Now  one  day,  white  Pat  was  hrs  master  attending. 

In  his  study,  where  letters  around  hnm  did  lay. 
When  hf  begged  hard  for  one  to  his  friends  to  be  sending, 

As  'twould  save  him  from  writing,  and  be  the  best  way. 
With  his  phililu,  etc. 

Soon  after,  being  sent  with  a  basket  and  letter. 
Crammed  full  of  live  pigeons  to  give  to  a  friend, 

Enraged  at  their  flutt-ering,  he  thought  it  was  better 
To  set  them  at  large,  and  their  misery  end: 

Then  on,  jog  he  went,  to  the  place  where  directed, 
But  the  door  had  no  knocker — so,  what  does  he  do  ? 

Taith,  he  knocked  at  the  next,  where  the  servant  attend- 
ing— 

Cried  Pat,  "It's  your  knocker  I  want,  and  not  you  I" 
With  your  phililu,  etc. 

Being  brought  'fore  the  gemman,  he  gave  him  the  note, 

Who  said,  "  In  the  letter  here's  pigeons,  I  find." 
^•Bejabers,"  says  Pat,  "that's  a  very  good  joke, 

For  they  fled  from  the  basket,  and  left  me  behind  I** 
The  gentlefman  swore  for  the  loss  he  must  pay, 

Or  on  losing  his  place  for  certain  depend ; 
Pat  replied,  "  To  your  offer  I'll  not  once  say  nay, 

If  you'll  be  so  kind  as  the  money  to  lend  !" 

With  my  phililu,  etc. 

Being  pleased  with  the  joke,  poor  Pat  got  forgivou, 

Por,  though  blunder  on  blunder,  no  harm  there  WM 
meant: 

And  if  he's  not  dead,  with  his  master  he's  living — 
And  when  not  out  of  humor,  is  always  content. 


KATTY   O'RANN.  W 

STay,  more,  Paddv  Flanapan  joins  in  the  wish 
That  the  cares  ^f  our  friends  may  soon  find  a  decrease; 

That  war  may  be  drowned  on  dry  land  with  the  fish, 
And  the  world  forever  taste  blQssiLgs  of  peace. 
"With  my  phililu,  etc. 


XATTY  O'RAinj. 

Was  no^fatrick  O'Lilt,  sure,  a  broth  of  a  lad. 
Who  oartered  what  money  and  baubles  he  had, 

■--^r  rue  fove  of  his  sweetheart.  Miss  Katty  O'Rannt 
Since  ne  fell  deep  in  love,  'faith  I  no  longer  the  spade 
He  handled,  or  followed  the  turf-cutiing  trade; 
But  sang  day  and  night  to  make  his  heart  light, 
And  swore  for  his  Katty  he'd  die  or  he'd  fight: 

Thus  did  Patrick  ^'T.nt  for  Miss  Katty  O'Rann. 
Chorus — Ri  tol  de  rol,  etc. 

He  sang  out  bis  love  in  a  sorrowful  strain  : 

His  warbling^she  heard,  but  she  laughed  at  his  pain— 

Which  he  could  not  bear  from  Miss  Katty  O'Rann. 
'Twas  enough  to  have  melted  the  heart  of  a  stone 
To  have  heard  the  poor  lad  sing,  sigh,  mutter,  and  moan, 
Willie  she  turned  up  her  nose,  which  stood  always  awry, 
And  plump  en  another  she  cast  her  sheep's  eye, 

Crying,  "  Pat,  you  won't  do  for  Miss  Katty  O'Rann.* 
Ri  tol  de  rol,  etc. 

As  he  found  no  impression  he  made  on  the  maid, 
'Faith,  he  shoveled  himself  out  of  life  with  his  spade, 

Determined  to  perish  for  Katty  O'Rann: 
For,  with  spade,  axe,  and  mallet,  about  his  neck  tied, 
He  plunged  in  the  Liffey,  and  there  for  her  died  1 
As  he  sunk  from  the  shore,  he  cried,  "  Katty,  no  more 
Shall  you  trouble  my  spirit,  or  make  my  bones  sore; 

So  bad  luck  to  you,  beautiful  Katty  O'Rann  I" 

Bi  tol  de  rol,  etc 


24  PHILIP    THE    FALCONER. 


PHILIP  THE  PALOONER. 

YoiTNG  Philip  the  falconer's  up  with  the  day, 

With  his  merlin  on  his  arm, 
And  down  the  mill  meadows  has  taken  his  waj 

To  hawk — and  pray  where's  the  harm? 
Philip  is  stalwart,  and  Phihp  is  young, 
And  Philip,  they  say,  has  a  musical  tongue. 
The  miller's  young  sister  is  fresh  and  is  fair, 
And  Philip  he  always  is  hawking  there ! 
For  he  vows  and  declares,  believe  it  or  not, 
There's  not  in  the  kingdom,  for  herons,  such  a  spci^ 
And  falcons,  they  say,  to  fly  true  to  their  prey, 
Should  be  trained  in  the  morning  early. 

The  miller's  to  market  to  buy  him  some  com, 

For  work  it  should  never  stand  still ; 
A  maioen  is  loitering  under  the  thorn, 

In  the  meadow  below  the  mill; 
And  Philip's  grown  tired  of  a  bachelor's  life — 
Thinks  the  miller's  young  sister  would  make  a  good  with; 
And  so  comes  a  whisper,  and  so  comes  a  smile, 
And  then  a  long  leave-taking  over  the  stile. 
Oh,  when  he  returns  from  market,  I  guess, 
The  miller  will  find  he's  a  sister  the  less ! 
For  maidens,  they  say,  do  not  always  say  "  Nay,** 
When  they're  asked  in  the  morning  early. 

The  miller's  returned  to  a  comfortless  home. 

No  maiden's  sweet  voice  is  there ; 
He  sought  o'er  the  hills,  through  the  valleys  and  fields 

For  comfort  his  spirits  to  cheer. 
But  the  birds  sang  less  sweetly,  the  streams  murmured  lo\? 
The  winds  were  all  cross,  and  the  mill  wouldn't  go: 
But  he  met  little  Mary  just  down  by  the  lea —   [hearts  free 
Now  they  both  had  long  loved,  when  they  thought  ihei 
"  0  Mary,"  he  said,  and  her  hand  pressed  the  while, 
"  Shall  we  talk  of  our  wedding  just  down  by  the  stile  ?'^ 
She  blushed,  turned  away,  but  she  didn't  say  "Nay,*' 
So  the7  married  one  morning  early. 


JAKE  Schneider's  daughter. 


6EB  WAS  SISTER  TO  THE  AN&ELS. 

She  was  sister  to  the  anp^els-  - 

For  we  knew  we  could  not  traeft. 
In  that  form  of  radiant  beauty, 

Any  stain  of  earthly  race  ; 
Like  a  sunbeam  was  her  laughter, 

And  of  heaven's  own  bhie  her  eye; 
Ai»d  we  wondered  not  they  took  her 

'lo  their  home  beyond  the  sky: 
Like  a  shadow  that  comes  flitting 

Through  some  bright  and  sunny  beam. 
She  has  passed  away  before  us, 

And  has  left  us  but  a  dream. 

There  are  flowers  that  fade  in  summer 

That  the  spring-time  may  restore; 
But  the  heart  grows  sad  and  weary, 

Ere  the  winter-time  is  o'er. 
In  a  thousand  sunny  places 

We  their  beauteous  forms  may  view 
But  they  seem  not  half  so  lovely 

As  the  flowers  our  childhood  knew. 
So  in  all  that's  fair  around  us, 

We  in  part  recall  that  face, 
That  had  less  of  eartli  than  heaven, 

Yet  of  each  had  left  a  trace. 


JAKE  SCHNEIDER'S  DAUGHTER. 
A  Parody  on  "  Lord  UUin's  Daughter.** 

By  John  F.  Poole. 
Mit  der  Tune  of  "Whack  row  de  dow,* 

A  VELLER,  in  der  Jersey  clime, 
Cries,  "Poatmau,  do  not  darryl 

Uu  I'll  gif  you  a  pretzel  vine 
To  row  us  o'er  der  verry." 
I 


JAKE   SCHNEIDER'S   DAUGHTER. 

"  Now  who  vould  cross  der  Shersey  creek, 

Dis  dark  und  muddy  vater  ?" 
"  Oh,  Vm  Yon  Schunk,"  der  veller  shpeak, 

"  Un  dia  Jake  Schneider's  daughter,'* 

Chortis. 
"Whack  row  de  dow, 

A  hunkey  boy  vos  Jacob  Schneider; 
Whack  row  de  dow, 

De  gal  vos  shtole  avay  I 

"Ve've  left  her  vader's  house  pehind — 

Across  der  shtream  I'll  dake  her; 
Un  if  der  mi-nishder  ve  vind, 

Mrs.  Von  Schunk  I'll  raake  her. 
Old  Schneider's  men  pehind  us  ride, 

Dey  shvear  dey'U  cut  mine  vizon  I 
Den  who  vill  sheer  mine  penny  pride, 

If  I  am  daked  to  brison?" 

Whack  row  de  dow,  etc 

Out  shpoke  der  poatman,  "  You  sha'nt  vaU; 

To  go,  by  tam,  I'm  ready  1 
It  Uih.  not  vor  your  pretzel  shtale. 

But  vor  your  bretty  lady. 
Shust  help  der  poat  vrom  off  dese  log&— 

Too  heavy  'tis  to  carry; 
Un,  dough  der  mud  ish  vuU  of  vrogs, 

m  row  you  o'er  der  verry." 

Whack  row  de  dow,  etc. 

Shust  deo^der  rain  pegin'd  to  vail — 

Der  pull  vrogs  sh  topped  deir  squeaking; 
Der  lady  virst  mit  vright  did  bawl. 

Dor  vet  soon  set  her  shrieking. 
Un  den,  ash  louder  plowed  der  vind, 

Un  ash  der  night  grow'd  drearer, 
Dey  heard  der  Deutschenmen  pehind — 

Deir  drampling  sounded  nearer  1 

Whack  row  de  dow,  ete. 


MY   OWN   NATIVE   LAND. 

"Hurry  up  your  gakes  1"  der  lady  sard, 

"  Dough  dempests  round  us  gader; 
I  doesn't  vant  a  proken  head, 

Un  so  von't  moet  mine  vader." 
Der  poat  vos  launched  ubon  der  creek, 

Der  lovers  vent  on  poard  it; 
Der  vaters  ru-shed  in  trough  each  leak, 

Un  loud  der  shtorm  roared  it. 

Whack  row  de  dow,  eta 

Un  ven  ha-lf  vay  across  dey  got, 

Trough  mud  un  vater  shteering, 
Olt  Schneider  reached  der  vatal  shpot, 

His  wrath  vos  changed  to  shvearing. 
For  in  der  poat,  in  her  pest  clothes, 

His  shild  he  did  dishgover; 
Yon  lovely  hand  shtretched  vrom  her  nose, 

Un  von  vos  rount  her  lover. 

Whack  row  de  dow,  etc 

"Gome  pack,  gome  pack  1"  alout  he  cried, 

"Vorgive  your  voUy  I  vill." 
"Nienl  nary  pack  !"  Von  Schunk  replied, 

"  You  may  go  to  der  tuyfel  I" 
Der  lovers  vent.     He  turned  around, 

Mit  curses  loud  un  blenty, 
Vent  to  his  home,  and  dere  he  vound 

His  money-trawer  vos  emj/ty. 

Whack  row  de  dow,  eta 


UT  OWN  NATIVE  LAND. 

rvB  roved  over  mountain,  I've  crossed  over  flood ; 

I've  traversed  the  wave-rolling  sand : 
Though  the  fields  were  as  green,  and  the  moon  shone 
bright, 
Tet  it  was  not  my  own  native  land. 

No,  no,  no,  no,  no — no,  no,  no,  no,  no  I 


28         THE   SHIELD,    FI8HBALL,    AND   SEWING-MACHINE. 

Though  the  fields  were. as  green,  and  the  moon  shone  aA 
brigiit, 
Yet  it  was  not  my  own  native  land. 

The  right  hand  of  friendship  how  oft  I  have  g:rasped, 
And  bright  eyes  have  smiled  and  looked  bland; 

Yet  happier  far  were  the  hours  that  I  passed 
In  the  West — in  ray  own  native  land. 

Yes,  yes,  yes,  yes,  yes — ^yes,  yes,  yes,  yes,  yes! 

Yet  happier  far  were  the  ho^rs  that  I  passed 
In  the  West — in  my  own  native  land. 

Then  hail,  dear  Columbia,  the  land  that  we  love, 

Where  flourishes  Liberty's  tree; 
The  birthplace  of  Freedom,  our  own  native  home, 

'Tis  the  land,  'tis  the  land  of  the  freel 

Yes,  yes,  yes,  yes,  yes — ^yes,  yes,  yes,  yes,  yes  I 
The  birthplace  of  Freedom,  our  own  native  home, 

'Tis  the  land,  'tis  the  land  of  the  free  I 


THE  SHIELD,  THE  EISHBALL,  AND  THE  SEWINO- 

MAOHINE; 

Or,  Love,  Arsenic,  and  Percn&sion-Oaps. 

Written  and  sung,  with  unusual  aitplnuse,  by  Tony  Pastob,  the  flk 
rnous  clown  and  comic  vocalist. 

Air — "  In  the  Merry  Month  of  May." 

My  song  is  of  a  "  Peeler"  ^ny, 

A  fancy  chap  that  once  I  knew, 
His  "  beat"  'twas  up  and  down  Broadway, 
^  And  he  looked  so  fine  in  his  suit  of  \)luel 

The  girls  would  smile  as  he'd  pass  hy , 
But  one  there  was  that  met  his  eye — 
He  thought  her  the  fairest  that  ever  he'd  seen— 
She  worked  in  a  shop  on  a  sewing-machine. 

{Spoken.)  Big  thing  on  the  sewing-machinaii 
Chorus — My  song,  etc. 


THE   SHIELD,    FISHBALL,    AND   SEVVING-MAOHINH.         M 

Each  even  she'd  come  at  six  o'clock, 

The  Peeler  for  lier  would  wait  the  wliile ; 

The  wagons  and  stages  at  once  he'd  stop, 

And  hand  her  across  with  a  wink  and  a  smile. 

But  he  had  a  rival,  five  feet  in  his  boots, 

A  sort  of  a  cook  down  at  Meschutt's; 

A  nice  young  man  of  limited  means — 

He  was  chief-engineer  of  the  pork  and  beans  I 

Big  thing  on  the  pork  and  beam 
My  song,  etc 

Says  the  Peeler,  "  I'll  cut  out  this  *  Fishball.' " 
To  "  Sewing-Machine"  he  sliowed  the  cash ; 
Upon  her  each  night  he  used  to  call, 

Which  quicKly  settled  poor  Cooky's  hash. 
One  night  he  called,  the  maid  to  see. 
And  found  her  squat  on  the  Peeler's  knee ; 
And,  what  with  affright  there  made  him  stand, 
She  was  playing  away  with  his  club  in  her  hand. 
Big  thing  on  the  club. 

My  song,  eta 

Cried  he,  "  For  to  live  is  now  no  use  1" — 

He  crept  into  the  cofifee-can  through  the  spout; 
But,  without  ever  cooking  poor  Cooky's  goose. 

He  was  only  half  boiled  when  the  fire  went  out 
But,  as  he  was  resolved  to  die, 
He  swallowed  the  shell  of  an  oyster-pie. 
Then  rammed  it  down  with  a  loaf  of  bread — 
It  stuck  in  his  throat,  and  choked  him  dead ! 
Big  thing  on  the  Cooky. 

My  song,  etc. 

When  "  Sewing-Machine"  the  «iews  did  hear, 

For  a  pound  of  arsenic  she  went  out ; 
She  drank  it  off  in  a  quart  of  beer, 

And  threw  up  till  she  turned  right  inside  out! 
When  the  Peeler  heard  of  these  sad  mishaps, 
He  swallowed  a  pound  of  nercussion-caps ;  ^ 

3* 


LITTLE   MORE   CIDER. 


Then  a  gallon  of  brandy  his  heat  increases, 
Till  they  bursted  and  b]«w  him  all  to  pieces! 

Big  thing  on  the  percussions. 
My  song,  eta 


LITTLE  MOEE  CIDER. 

I  LOVE  the  white  girl  and  the  black, 

And  I  love  all  the  rest ; 
I  love  the  girls  for  loving  me. 
But  I  love  myself  the  best. 
Oh,  dear,  I  am  so  thirsty  1 

I've  just  been  down  to  supper — 
I  drank  three  pails  of  apple-jack, 
And  a  tub  of  apple-butter  I 
Chorus — Oh,  little  more  cider  too, 
A  little  more  cider  too ; 
,     A  little  more  cider  for  Miss  Dinah, 
A  little  more  cider  too  1 

When  first  I  saw  Miss  Snowflake, 

'Twas  on  Broadway  I  spied  her; 
I'd  give  my  hat  and  boots,  I  would, 

If  I  could  been  beside  her. 
She  looked  at  me,  and  I  looked  at  her, 

And  then  I  crossed  the  street; 
And  then  she  smiling  said  to  me, 

"A  little  more  cider  sweet." 

Oh,  little  more  cider,  etc. 

Oh,  I  wish  I  was  an  apple. 

And  Snowflake  was  another; 
Oh,  wliat  a  pretty  pair  we'd  make, 

Upon  a  tree  together  1 
How  bad  de  darkeys  all  would  feel, 

When  on  the  tree  they  spied  her, 
To  think  how  happy  we  would  be 

When  we're  made  into  cider  1 

Oh,  little  more  cider,  ata 


KATHLEEN   O' REGAN.  81 

But  now  old  age  comes  creeping  on — 

We  grow  down,  and  don't  get  bigger; 
And  cider  sweet  am  sour  then, 

And  I  am  just  de  nigger. 
But  let  de  cause  be  what  it  will, 

Short,  small,  or  wider, 
She  am  de  apple  of  my  soul. 

And  I'm  bound  to  be  beside  her. 

Oh,  little  more  cider,  etc. 


KATHLEEN  O'REGAN. 

A  BOY  in  my  teens,  just  before  I  reached  twenty, 

Among  the  young  lasses  would  cast  a  hawk's  eye : 
Fresh  lilies  and  roses,  and  posies  in  plenty, 

Graced  Kathleen  O'Regan,  the  pride  of  Athy. 
She'd  say,  "Pat,  be  aisyl  ah,  why  do  you  teaze  me? 

I  dread  to  come  near  you,  and  cannot  tell  why." 
"My  sowll  neither  Jenny  nor  Nell  of  Kilkenny 

Are  dear  as  sweet  Kathleen,  the  pride  of  Athy." 

"  Arrah,  Pat,  you  know  that  my  father  and  mother 

Both  think  me  too  young  to  be  married — oh,  fie ! 
To  stay  awhile  longer  I  know  they  would  rather; 

Then  can't  you  have  patience  ?" — "  Dear  Kathleen,  not  L* 
She  smiled  like  a  Cupid,  which  made  me  look  stupid — 

My  eyes  fixed  with  love,  when  I  found  she'd  comply; 
So  bloomed  every  feature,  like  soft  tints  of  Nature, 

Of  Kathleen  O'Regan,  the  pride  of  Athy. 

Then  war  drove  me  on  to  where  battle  was  raging, 

Sh3  kissed  me,  I  pressed  her  with  tears  in  each  eye: 
We  sighed,  groaned,  and  blubbered — she  cried  so  engaging; 

"  Remember  poor  Kathleen,  and  once-loved  Athy, 
Where  oft,  in  its  bowers,  you've  pulled  me  sweet  flowera-* 

If  e'er  you  forget  it,  I'll  certainly  die!" 
•*  My  Kathleen,  to  you,  love,  I'll  ever  be  ti'ue,  love, 

Sweet  Kathleen  O'Regan,  the  pride  of  Athy/ 


32  A   LITTLE   80^^;}   OF   L  x'TLE   THINGS. 

A  LITTLE  SONG  OF  LITTLE  THINQiS. 

A  Little  Comic  Ditty, 

Bung  by  the  late  John  Winans,  at  the  National  and  Bowery  Theatres, 

AiK— "Fine  Old  Ir>3h  Gentleman." 

I'll  sing  to  you  a  little  song:,  iQ  little  jingling  rhymes, 
'Bout  littl-e  folks  and  little  things  in  these  funny  little  times, 
Their  little  ways,  their  little  deeds — though  perhaps  I've 

little  cause, 
And  very  little  skill,  indeed,  to  merit  your  applause — 
For  this  is  a  little  history  of  little  modern  times. 

The  little  joys  of  former  times  have  nearly  passed  away ; 
There's  very  littie  labor  now,  and  very  little  pay : 
All  things  with  being  little  here  we  honestly  may  charge, 
If  we  except  the  taxes,  which  you'll  own  are  very  large— 
For  this  is,  etc. 

We've  very  little  orators,  who  take  no  little  pains 
To  show  the  world  at  large  that  they  have  very  little  braina^* 
"We've  little  men  in  Congress,  who  are  no  little  bore, 
Besides  a  little  bank-bill  to  oppress  the  little  poor — 
For  this  is,  etc. 

We've  little  swells  about  the  town,  who've  a  very  little 

purse ; 
And  pert  and  prudish  little  maids,  with  a  little  child  at 

nurse ; 
And  little  foppish  dandy  sparks,  whose  credit's  very  queer, 
Who  strut  their  little  forms  about  to  quiz  the  httle  fair — 
For  this  is,  etc. 

And  then  we've  pretty  little  girls,  who  pore   o'er  little 

sonnets, 
With  little  waists  and  little  feet,  and  little  fancy  bonnets, 
Who  paint  their  pretty  httle  cheeks,  and  play  their  little 

parts. 
To  win  the  little  men's  sweet  smiles,  and  please  their  little 

hearts —  For  this  is,  etc. 


TTT    FOR   TAT.  33 

We've  little  balls  and  little  routs,  where  little  people  go, 
To  sport  their  little  figures  and  to  sport  their  little  toe; 
Little  sparks  and  little  clerks,  just  broke  from  tneir  raamma; 
And  little  boys  who  think  tlwy're  men,  with  a  little  sweet 
cigar — 

For  this  is,  etc. 

A  little  smart  apology,  and  then  my  song  is  doite : 
IVe  spoke  a  litAe  freely,  just  to  cause  a  little  fun; 
My  object  being,  of  little  devils  blue  all  to  dfo-arm, 
So  if  I've  gained  that  little  end,  I've  done  but  little  harm 
In  this  my  little  history  of  little  modern  times 


TIT  FOE  TAT. 

A  highly  Popular  Comic  Song. 

Sung  by  all  tbe  celebrated  rocallsts. 

Air—*  The  Tickling-Man." 

Mr.  Tibbs,  as  they  tell  me,  was  not  half  so  bold 
As  his  gay  little  wife,  a  most  terrible  scold, 

"Who  was  witty,  and  pretty,  and  smart,  and  all  t-hat: 
But  in  truth  she'd  some  reason  to  scold,  I'm  afraid, 
For  she  lately  detected  him  kissing  the  maid  1 
So  he  very  much  stared  when  she  told  him  one  day — 
"My  love,  if  you  like,  you  may  go  to  the  play, 

Which  is  witty,  and  pretty,  and  smart,  and  all  that." 

Now  Tibbs  was  a  lover  of  plays  that  were  witty. 

But  much  more  in  love  with  his  wife's  m^aid,  sweet  Kitty, 

Who  was  witty,  and  pretty,  and  srirart,  and  all  that. 
With  lawless  emotion  his  boeom  now  burned, 
And  in  secret,  alone,  by  the  garden  returned; 
The  moon,  with  her  horns,  was  just  rising  to  view — 
Fatal  vision,  which  told  him  that  he  was  horned  tool 

Though  so  witty,  and  pretty,  and  smart,  and  all  that 


HIGHLAND    MART. 

gods  !  at  that  moment  his  optics  descried 
His  wife,  with  a  tall,  dashing  youth  at  her  side, 

Who  was  witty,  and  pretty,  and  smart,  and  all  that 
Mr.  Tibbs,  boJting  out,  cried,  with  dreadful  grimace, 
'^Yile  woman^I  now  dare  look  your  spouse  in  the  facv-I" 
She  screamed,  and  exclaimed,  "  You  base  wretch  1  in  good 

time 
My  maid  has  confessed  all  your  wicked  des-ign — 
For  she's  witty,  and  pretty,  and  smart,  and  all  that 

"  I'm  resolved  on  revenge — I  your  steps  have  waylaid, 
And  my  cousin,  the  captain,  I've  brought  to  my  aid — 

He  is  witty,  and  pretty,  and  smart,  and  all  that; 
With  him  you  may  settle  the  case  in  dispute. 
And  I'll  give  you,  gratis,  this  lesson  to  boot : 
When  next  with  my  maid  you  would  kiss,  and  all  thftt, 
Pray  remember  your  wile  may  return  '  tit  for  tat,' 

K  she's  witty,  and  pretty,  and  smart,  and  all  that  1" 


HIGHLAITD  MART. 

Tb  banks,  and  braes,  and  streams  around 

Th«  castle  o'  Montgomery, 
Green  be  your  woods,  and  fair  your  flowers, 

Your  waters  never  drumlie  1 
There  Simmer  faust  unfauld  her  rdbes 

And  there  the  langest  tarry ; 
For  there  I  took  the  last  fareweel 

0'  my  sweet  Highland  Mary. 

How  sweetly  bloomed  the  gay  green  birit 

How  rich  the  hawthorn's  blossom, 
As,  underneath  their  fragrant  shade, 

I  clasped  her  to  my  bosom ! 
The  golden  hours,  on  angel-wings, 

Flew  o'er  me  and  my  dearie ; 
For  dear  to  me  as  light  and  life 

Was  my  sweet  Highland  Marjr. 


AM    I    NOT    FONDLY    THINT?    OWN  7 

Wi'  monie  a  vow  and  locked  embrace 

Our  parting  was  fu'  tender; 
And  pledging  aft  to  meet  again, 

"We  tore  oursels  asunder: 
But  oh,  fell  Death's  untimely  frost, 

That  nipped  ray  flower  sae  early  I 
Now  green's  the  sod  and  cauld's  the  day 

That  wraps  my  Highland  Mary  I 

Oh,  pale,  pale  now  those  rosy  lips, 

I  aft  hae  kissed  sae  fondly ! 
And  closed  for  aye  the  sparkling  glance 

That  dwelt  on  me  sae  kindly  I 
And  mouldering  now  in  silent  dust, 

That  heart  that  lo'ed  me  dearly; 
But  still  within  my  bosom's  core 

Shall  live  my  Highland  Mary. 


AM  I  NOT  FONDLY  THINE  OWN? 

Thou,  thou,  reign'st  in  this  bosom — 
There,  there,  hast  thou  thy  throne  ; 

Thou,  thou,  know'st  that  I  love  thee — 
Am  I  not  fondly  thine  own  ? 

Yes,  yes,  yes,  yes,  am  I  not  fondly  thine  own? 

Then,  then,  e'en  as  I  love  thee, 

Say,  say,  wilt  thou  love  me  ? 
Thoughts,  thoughts,  tender  and  true,  love, 

Say  wilt  thou  cherish  for  me  ? 
Yes,  yes,  yes,  yes,  say  wilt  thou  cherish  for  me  ? 

Speak,  speak,  love,  I  implore  thee  1 

Say,  say,  hope  shall  be  thine : 
Thou,  thou,  know'st  that  I  love  thee — 

Say  but  thou  wilt  be  mine  I 
Tee,  yes,  yes,  yes,  say  but  theu  wilt  be  mine. 


Il6  COME.    SIT    TUKE    DOWN. 

TD  B£  A  BLUE-FOTTLE. 

A  Popular  Parody. 

Sung  by  Mr.  J.  Reevb,  In  Buckstone's  Burletta,  "Billy  Tajlot.* 

Air—"  I'd  be  a  Butterfly." 

I'd  he  a  blue-bottle,  buzzing  and  blue, 
With  a  chirny  proboscis,  and  nothing  to  do 
But  to  dirty  wliite  dimity  curtains,  and  blow 
The  choicest  of  meats  when  the  summer  days  glow. 
Let  t'he  hater  of  sentiment,  dewdrops,  and  flowers, 
Scorn  the  insect  that  flutters  in  sunbeams  and  bowers; 
There's  a  pleasure  which  none  but  the  blue-bottle  knows—* 
*Tis  to  buzz  in  the  ear  of  a  man  in  a  doze  1 

How  charming  to  haunt  a  sick-chamber,  and  revel 
O'er  the  invalid's  pillow,  like  any  blue  devil  1 
When  pursued,  to  bounce  off"  to  the  window,  afod  then 
From  the  pane  to  the  counterpane  bounce  back  again! 
I'd  be  a  blue-bottle,  buzzing  and  bhie. 
With  a  chiray  proboscis,  and  nothing  to  do 
But  to  dirty  white  dimity  curtains,  and  blow 
The  choicest  of  meats  when  the  summer  days  gloijf ' 


COME,  SIT  THEE  DOWN. 

Come,  sit  thee  down,  my  bonny,  bonny  k)ve^ 

Come,  sit  thee  down,  by  me,  love, 
And  I  will  tell  thee  many  a  tale 

Of  the  dangers  of  the  sea ; 
Of  the  perils  of  the  deep,  love, 
Where  angry  tempests  roar. 
And  the  raging  billows  wildly  dash 
Upon  the  groaning  shore  1 

Come,  sit  thee  down,  my  bonny,  bonny  lar% 

Come,  sit  thee  down  by  me,  love, 
And  I  will  tell  thee  many  a  tale 
Of  the  dangers  of  the  sea. 


X   TiaY  GOOI>   HAKD  AT  IT. 

The  ikios  are  flamiDg  red,  mj  love, 

The  skies  are  flaming  red,  loTe, 
And  darkly  rolls  the  mountain-wftT6, 

And  rears  its  monstrous  head ; 
"While  skies  and  ocean  blending, 

And  bitter  howls  the  blast — 
And  one  daring  tar,  'twixt  life  and  deata 

Clings  to  the  shattered  mast  I 

Come,  sit  thee  down,  etc. 


A  VERT  aOOD  HAND  AT  IT. 

A  Favorite  Comic  Song, 

Song  by  William  Bebve,  comedian  and  comio  vo«aUi% 

Ant — "Jeremy  Diddler.** 

To  New  York  I  just  came  'tother  day, 

With  my  pockets  all  laden  with  cash,  sirs; 
I  soon  took  a  walk  through  Broadway, 

For  I  thought  I  would  cut  such  a  dash,  sirs. 
There  I  met  with  Miss  Emily  Lee, 

And  au  "  open  house"  being  quite  handy, 
I  asked  her  to  step  in  with  me, 

And  there  take  a  small  drop  of  brandy. 

Chorus — Tol  lol  de  rol,  eUv 

She  quickly  then  gave  her  consent — 

We  went  in,  and  to  drink  did  begin  it; 
She  ordered  a  bottle  of  wine, 

And  guzzled  it  off  in  a  minute ! 
At  that  I  began  to  look  blue — 

Thinks  I,  "Now  it's  no  use  to  stand  at  it" 
Bays  slie,  *'  Sir,  believe  me — it's  true — 

L  as  reckoned  a  very  good  hand  at  it  1" 

Tol  lol  de  rol,  eto. 

i 


A   VEET   fOOIi   HAX'D  AT   IT. 

Then  she  eaid  that  hev  stomach  felt  queer- 
Some  victuals  would  give  it  rehef,  sira; 

Then  she  knocked  in  just  five  oyster-stews, 
Then  a  large  plate  or  two  of  roast  bee^  sirs. 

She  said  that  the  lobsters  looked  nice — 
If  IM  be  so  kind  as  to  stand  a  bit; 

She  boiced  off  two  in  a  trice, 

Eor  ske's  reckoned  a  very  good  hand  at  it, 

Tol  lol  de  rol,  etc 

"We  wandered  the  streets  all  the  day, 

And  saw  what  sights  there  were  to  see; 
At  length  unto  rne  she  did  say, 

"  I  should  like  a  good  strong  cup  of  tea." 
We  quick  headed  off  for  Meschutt's — 

To  walk  in  we  didn't  long  stand  at  it; 
Tiitto  she  took  tea  and  cakes  for  an  hour — 

Oh,  she's  reckoned  a  very  good  hand  at  it! 
Tol  lol  de  rol,  eta 

Then  next  pork  and  beans  caught  her  eye. 

So  she  called  up  the  waiter  so  swellish. 
And  ordered  a  very  large  plate. 

With  an  oyster-pie  just  for  a  relish  1 
Bhe  then  took  a  fancy  to  liash, 

And  asked  me  if  I  wouldn't  stand  a  bit; 
flhe  swallowed  just  six  plates  of  that. 

For  she's  reckoned  a  very  good  hand  at  it. 

Tol  lol  de  rol,  etOk 

I  found  I  was  wanting  some  rest. 

So  I  thought  I'd  look  out  for  a  bed,  sirs ; 
She  said  that  she  thought  'twould  be  best, 

If  I'd  occupy  half  hers  instead,  sirs. 
In  a  moment  I  gave  my  consent — 

Her  dwelhng  it  was  rather  grand  a  bit; 
•Twas  tasty  and  nice,  and  all  that, 

For  she's  reckoned  a  very  good  hand  *i  i*. 

Tol  lol  de  rol,  eta 


CHISELLING   THE  BURIAL-CLUB.  89 

Next  morning  quite  early  I  rose, 

But  I  found  such  a  pain  in  my  head,  sirs! 
She  had  bolted  away  with  my  clothes, 

And  left  me  alone  in  tlie  V)ed,  sirs. 
So,  young  men,  I  Vje-g-  you  take  care, 

And  love  from  your  knobs  pray  abandon  it; 
Or,  like  me,  you'll  be  cauglit  in  a  snare, 

By  one  that's  a  very  good  hand  at  it. 

Tol  lol  de  rol,  eta 


CHISELLING  THE  BURIAL-OLUB. 

AiK — "Paddy's  Curiosity-Shop.'" 

My  old  woman  one  day  says  to  me, 

"A  thought  has  popped  into  my  head- 
How  hard  up  our  young  ones  would  be. 

If  supposing  as  how  you  was  dead!" 
Says  I,  "  Old  gal,  tip  us  your  fin — 

You  shall  never  be  hard  up  for  grub* 
For  to-morrow  I'll  muster  some  tin, 

And  belong  to  the  Burial-Club." 

Chorus — Tol  lol  de  rol,  eta 

I  arose  up  next  morning  at  nine, 

Round  my  neck  put  my  Sunday  cravat; 
To  my  boots  gave  a  jolly  good  shine. 

In  the  water-pail  dipped  my  silk  hat. 
Just  a  dollar  I  had  to  a  cent ; 

With  brickdust  I  my  cheeks  gave  a  rub-  - 
Then  to  the  committee  I  went. 

And  entered  the  Burial-Club. 

Tol  lol  de  rol,  eta 

Then  I  sent  ray  old  woman  one  day 

(As  a  queer  thought  came  into  my  head) 

To  the  committee,  and  told  her  to  say 
As  how  her  poor  hasband  was  dead  I 


40  CHISELLING   THE   BURIAL-CLUB. 

She  went,  and  she  pitched  th-em  a  tal^— 
With  onions  her  eyes  gave  a  rub; 

So  they  gave  her  some  cash  on  the  nail, 
So  we  chiselled  the  Burial-Club. 

Tol  I'ol  de  rol,  eta 

We  next  sent  some  notes  to  our  friends, 

My  wife  and  I  shoved  them  about — 
With  "  Mister  John  Johnson  intends 

On  giving  a  jolly  blow-out!" 
We'd  a  lot  of  pig's-feet  and  some  bread, 

Six  gallons  of  soup  in  a  tub ; 
In  fact,  they  were  very  well  fed, 

At  the  expense  of  the  Burial-Club  1 

Tol  lol  de  rol,  etc 

I  served  out  the  soup  in  good  style. 

To  show  how  genteel  I  had  been ; 
And  the  old  woman  showed  'em,  the  while, 

How  fast  she  could  put  away  gin  1 
We  ate  one  another,  almost — 

And,  after  we'd  finished  the  grub, 
The  old  woman  gave  us  a  toast: 

"Here's  long  Ufe  to  the  Burial-Club!" 

Tol  lol  de  rol,  etc. 

We  had  a  bass- fiddle  and  life, 

A  banjo,  and  cracked  tambourine; 
But,  while  dancing,  1  noticed  iny  wife 

Steal  off  witli  a  fellow  calle>l  Green  I 
She  told  me,  rigliL  baui^;  lo  my  iiead, 

She  wisiied  Vd  been  choked  by  the  grub, 
For  she'd  marry  him  when  I  was  dead, 

With  ihe  bluni  trom  t-he  Burial-Club. 

Tol  lol  de  rol,  eta 

We  kept  up  the  dancing  all  night. 
Till  we  couldn't  dance  any  more; 

And  at  last  we  were  put  in  a  fright, 
By  a  thundering  knock  at  the  door — 


TACOB   SCilN'APl'S    AND    PEDER   SOHPIKB.  4] 

When  a  man  in  black  popped  in  his  head, 

Like  the  devil  in  search  of  his  grub. 
With  "  I've  coino  for  the  man  that's  dead— 

I  belong  to  the  Burial-Club  I" 

Tol  iol  de  rol,  etc 

Our  party  rushed  out  of  the  room,  ^ 

After  breaking  the  tables  and  chairs; 
The  old  w^oman  snatched  up  the  broom, 

And  knocked  Mister  Devil  down-stairs  1 
We  were  both  taken  by  the  police, 

And  locked  up  all  night  without  grub; 
And  then  got  a  twelvemonth  apiece, 

Por  defrauding  the  Burial-Club ! 

Tol  Iol  de  rol,  etc. 


TAOOB  SCHNAPPS  AND  PEDER  SCHPIKE. 

A  Parody  on  "Eobin  Ruff  and  Q-affer  Q-reen." 

By  JouN  F.  PooLB. 

YACOB   SCHNAPPS. 

I>  I  had  but  a  dousand  a  year,  Peder  Schpike, 

If  I  had  but  a  dousand  a  year, 
Vot  a  veller  I'd  pe,  un  I'd  have  sooch  a  shpree, 

If  I  had  but  a  dousand  a  year,  Peder  Schpike. 
If  I  had  but  ein  dousand  a  year. 

PEDER   SCHPIKE. 

Vot  der  tuyfel  vas  got  in  your  head,  Tacob  Schnapps  ? 

You  ish  grazy  as  dunder,  I  fear! 
But  I'll  listen  mit  you :  dell  me,  vot  vould  you  do, 

If  you  had  but  a  dousand  a  year,  Yacob  Schnapps, 
If  you  had  but  ein  dousand  a  year? 

YACOB   SCHNAPPS. 

Tot  I'd  do  ?  I'd  puy  lots  of  goot  tings,  Peder  Schpike^ 
Cwetzer-Kaese,  buddings,  pretzels,  un'bier; 
4* 


4S  THE  Indian's  prater. 

I  vould  puild  a  pig  house,  have  a  couple  of  frowa, 
If  I  had  but  a  donsand  a  year,  Peder  Schpike, 
If  I  had  but  a  dousaud  a  year. 

PEDER   SCHPIKE. 

But  subbose  you  gets  sick  on  yo  ir  ped,  Yacob  Schnappa^ 

Mit  trinking  too  much  lager-bier? 
Un  ven  you  grows  old,  if  your  frows  'gin  to  schold, 

Den  vot  ish  your  dousand  a  year,  Yacob  Schnapps, 
Den  vot  ish  your  dousaud  a  year  ? 

YACOB   SCHNAPPS. 

Tot,  a  man  sich  as  me  to  get  sick,  Peder  Schpike  ? 

I  dinks  dat  vould  pe  butty  queer : 
Mine  life  I'd  insure,  un  from  Death  pe  secure, 

If  I  had  but  a  dousand  a  year,  Peder  Schpike, 
If  I  had  but  a  dousand  a  year. 

PEDER   SCHPIKB. 

Dere's  a  place  vot  ish  petter  as  dis,  Yacob  Schnapps. 

YACOB  SCHNAPPS. 

Yaw,  der  shtate  von  New  Yarsey  ish  nearl 

POTH   TOGEDER. 

Let  us  poth  emigrate  to  dat  peautifool  shtate, 

Un  ve'U  soon  make  a  dousand  a  year — yaw,  iBteed, 
Ye  vill  soon  make  a  dousand  a  year  I 


THE  INDIAN'S  PEAYER. 

Lbt  me  go  to  my  home  in  the  far  distant  land, 
To  the  scenes  of  my  childhood  in  innocence  blest ; 
"Where  the  tall  cedars  wave,  and  the  bright  waters  fiow 
"Where  my  fathers  repose,  let  me  go,  let  me  go- 
Where  my  fathers  repose,  let  me  go,  let  me  go  I 


OH,    WHISTLE,    AND    I'LL    COME   TO   YOD.  4S 

Let  me  go  to  the  spot  wli^re  the'eaiaract  plays. 
Where  oft  I  have  sported  in  boyhood's  bright  days, 
And  greet  my  poor  mother,  vhose  heart  will  overflow 
At  the  sight  of  hpr  ohild :  let  me  go.  let  me  go — 
At  the  sight  of  her  child,  let  me  go,  let  me  go  1 

Let  me  go  to  my  sire,  by  whose  battle-scarred  side 
I  have  sported  so  oft  in  the  morn  of  my  pride, 
And  exulted  to  conqn«r  the  insolent  foe: 
To  my  father,  the  chief,  let  me  go,  let  me  go — 
To  my  father,  the  chief,  let  me  go,  let  me  go  I 

And  oh,  let  me  go  to  my  wild  forest-home. 
No  more  from  its  life-cheering  pleasures  to  roam: 
'Neath  the  groves  of  the  glen  let  my  ashes  lie  low; 
To  my  home  in  the  woods  let  me  go,  let  me  go- 
To  my  home  in  the  woods  let  me  go,  let  me  go  I 


OH,  WHISTLE,  AND  I'LL  COME  TO  YOU. 

Oh,  whistle,  and  I'll  come  to  you,  my  lad, 
Oh,  whistle,  and  I'll  come  to  you,  my  lad; 
Though  father  and  mither  and  a'  should  go  mad, 
Oh,  whistle,  and  I'll  come  to  you,  my  lad  1 
But  warily  tent,  when  ye  come  to  court  me, 
And  come  na  unless  the  back-yett  be  a-jee ; 
Syne  up  the  back  stile,  and  let  naebody  see— 
And  come  as  ye  were  nae  comin'  to  me — 
Oh,  come  as  ye  were  nae  comin'  to  me  1 

Oh,  whistle,  and  I'll  come  to  you,  my  lad. 
Oh,  whistle,  and  I'll  come  to  you,  my  lad ; 
Though  father  and  mither  and  a'  should  go  mad, 
Thy  Jeanie  will  venture  wi'  ye,  my  lad. 
At  kirk  or  at  merket,  whene'er  ye  meet  me, 
Gang  by  me  as  though  ye  cared  nae  a  flie; 
But  steal  me  a  blink  o'  your  bonnie  black  e*0, 
Yet  look  as  ye  were  nae  lookin'  at  me — 
Oh,  look  as  ye  were  nae  lookin'  at  me  1 


THE   HITMBUGQED   HUSBAKU. 

Oh,  whistle,  and  I'll  come  to  you,  my  lad, 
Oh,  v/histle,  and  I'll  come  lo  you,  my  lad; 
Though  father  and  mither  and  a'  should  go  ma<l| 
Oh,  whistle,  and  I'll  came  to  you,  my  lad  I 
Ay,  vow  and  protest  that  ye  care  nae  for  me, 
,  And  whyles  ye  may  lightly  my  beauty  awee; 
But  court  nae  anither,  though  jokin'  ye  be, 
For  fear  that  she  wyle  your  fancy  frae  me — 
For  fear  that  she  wyle  your  fancy  frae  me  I 


THE  HUMBUGGED  HUSBAND.   (A  Paiody.) 

As  sung  by  the  Hutchinson  Family 

Air — "Alice  Grey." 

She's  not  what  Fancy  painted  her — 

I'm  sadly  taken  in  ; 
If  some  one  else  had  won  her,  I 

Should  not  have  cared  a  pinl 
I  thought  that  she  was  mild  and  good 

As  maiden  e'er  could  be : 
I  wonder  how  she  ever  could 

Have  so  much  humbugged  me  1 

They  cluster  round  and  shake  my  hand, 

They  tell  me  I  am  blest; 
My  case  they  do  not  understand — 

I  think  that  I  know  best. 
They  call  her  "fairest  of  the  fair," 

They  drive  me  mad  and  madder : 
"What  do  they  mean  by  it  ? — I  swear 

I  only  wish  they  had  her  1 

*Tis  true  that  she  has  lovely  locks, 

That  on  her  shoulders  fall — 
What  would  they  say,  to  see  the  box 

In  which  she  keeps  them  all? 
Her  taper  fingers,  it  is  true, 

Are  difficult  to  match — 
"What  would  they  say,  if  they  but  knew 

How  terribly  they  scratch  ? 


THE   SAILOR-BOY  ».  GOOD-BY. 

THE  SAILOR-BOY'S  GOOD-BT. 
AiK — "  Woodman,  spare  that  Tree." 

My  mother  dear,  I  go 

Far  o'er  the  distant  sea — 
But  let  me  gladly  know 

A  blessing  fond  from  thee. 
The  fate  that  makes  us  poor, 

Calls  forth  the  parting  sigh, 
And  drives  me  from  thy  door— 

My  mother  dear,  good-by  1 

And  when  in  distant  lands 

I  make  my  exiled  prayer, 
And  raise  my  folded  hands 

To  Him  who'll  guide  me  there— 
I'll  crave  for  thee  each  joy, 

And  He  will  hear  my  cry; 
Then,  smiling,  .kiss  thy  boy — 

My  mother  dear,  good-by  1 

This  poor  but  pretty  cot, 

On  which  the  sunset  gleams, 
Will  ne'er  be  once  forgot — 

'Twill  mingle  in  my  dreams. 
And  when  from  distant  climea 

Thy  truant  boy  comes  nigh, 
"We'll  share  the  happy  times— 

My  mother  dear,  good-by  ! 

The  thoughts  of  thy  dear  form, 

Thy  cherished  voice  so  kind, 
Will  cheer  me  in  the  storm, 

Amid  the  howling  wind. 
I  dare  not  now  remain ; 

But  quick  the  time  will  fly, 
When  we  shall  meet  again — 

My  mother  dear,  good-by  1 


46  BOOT,    HOG,    OR    DIK 

ROOT,  HOG,  OR  DIE. 

I'm  rrght  from  ole  Yirginny,  wid  my  pocko  full  ob  news 
I'm  worth  twenty  shillings,  right  squaro  in  my  shoes; 
It  doesn't  make  a  dif  of  biitereuce  to  neider  you  nor  T 
Big  pig  or  little  pig — Root,  hog,  or  dio  f 
Ghorv,s. 
I'm  chief  cook  and  bottlo- washer, 

Cap'n  ob  de  waiters  ; 
I  stand  upon  my  head 

When  I  peel  do  apple-  umplino! 

I'ge  de  happiest  darkey  on  de  top  ob  de  earth ; 
I  get  faft  ag  a  'possum  in  de  time  ob  de  dearth; 
Like  a  pig  in  a  'tater-patch,  dar  let  me  lie, 
*Way  down  in  ole  Virginny,  wtiar  it's  Root,  hog,  or  dloE 
I'm  chief  cook,  etc. 

De  New  York  dandies  dey  look  so  very  grand — 
Ole  clothes  hand  me  down,  gloves  upon  de  hand 
High-heel-boots,  mustaches  round  de  eye, 
A  perfect  sick  family  ob  Root,  hog,  or  die  1 
I'm  chief  cook,  etc. 

De  New  York  gals  dey  do  beat  dem  all; 
Dey  wear  high-heel  shoes  for  to  make  demselfs  tall; 
If  dey  don't  hab  dem,  de  Lor'  how  dey'U  cry  1 
De  boys  hab  got  to  get  dem,  or  else  Root,  hog,  or  die  \ 
I'm  chief  cook,  etc. 

De  Shanghie  coats  dey'^e  gettin'  all  de  go — 
Whar  de  boys  get  dem,  I  really  don't  know; 
But  dey're  bound  to  get  uem,  if  ley  don't  hang  too  high, 
Or  else  dey  make  de  tailors  run,  Root,  hog,  or  die  I 
I'm  chief  cook,  etc 


"I  STAITD  upon  the  soil  of  freedom,"  cried  a  stump  orator. 
"No,"  exclaimed  his  shoemaker,  "you  stand  in  a  pair  of 
boots  that  have  never  been  naid  fo'-]" 


DON   GIOVANNI.  4t 

DON  GIOVANNI. 

A  Mysterious  Melodrama, 

0OK6  into  rhyme  by  W.  T.  Mon-oeibti', 

Ajr-—"  a  Frog  be  would  a  wooing  go." 

There  lived  in  Spain,  as  stones  tell,  oh, 

One  Don  Giovanni — 
Among  the  girls  a  deuce  of  a  fellow ; 
And  he  had  a  servant  they  called  Seporello, 
With  his  primo,  buffo,  canto,  basso— 
"Heighol"  sighed  Don  Giovanni. 

He  serenaded  Donna  Anna, 

Did  Don  Giovanni; 
He  swore  she  was  more  sweet  than  manna, 
Then  into  her  window  he  side  to  trepan  her, 
With  his  wheedle,  tweedle,  lango  dillo — 
0  wicked  Don  Giovanni  1 

The  commandant,  her  guardian  true, 

Caught  Don  Giovanni : 
Says  he,  "You're  a  blackguard  1   run,  sir,  do"— 
"I  will,"  says  Giovy,  and  run  him  through. 

With  his  carte-o,  tierce-o,  thrust-o,  pierce-o, 
And  away  ran  Don  Giovanni. 

He  jumped  in  a  boat,  and  was  cast  away — 

Wrecked  Don  Giovanni ; 
Says  he,  "I  shall  keep  the  police  here  at  bay,"         [pAJt 
Then  some  fishermen's  rihs  boned,  and  made  their  liyes 
With  his  stop-'em,  pop-'em,  seize-'em,  squeeze-'em— 
What  a  spark  was  Don  Giovanni  1 

A  wedding  he  met,  and  the  bride  'gan  to  woo— 

Fie,  Don  Giovanni ! 
"I  am  running  away,  will  you  run  away  too?" 
Says  he. — "  Yes,"  says  she,  "I  don't  care  if  I  do"^ 
With  a  helter-skelter,  hesto,  presto — 
What  a  devil  was  Don  Giovanni ' 


48  ANNIE   LAURIE. 

To  a  churchyard  he  came — oh,  what  brought  him  toera, 

Lost  Don  Giovanni? 
The  commandant's  stone  statue  it  made  him  stare, 
Like  Washington's  statue  at  Union  Square, 

With  his  saddle,  bridle,  falchion,  truncheon — 
**Give  me  a  call,"  said  Don  Giovanni 

To  call  on  Giovanni  the  statue  wasn't  slow, 

Bold  Don  Giovanni. 
"Will  you  sup  with  me,  Mr.  Statue  ?"  said  he.  It  cried,  "No^ 
For  you  must  sup  with  me  in  the  rep^ions  below, 

Off  my  brin>3tone,  sulphur,  pitch-o,  smoke-o  !"— 
"I'll  be  d d  if  I  do!'^  cried  Giovanni 


ANNIE  LAURIE, 

Maxwellton  braes  are  bonnie. 

Where  early  fa's  the  dew. 
And  it's  there  that  Annie  Laurie 

Gi'ed  me  her  promise  true — 
Gi'ed  me  her  promise  true, 

Which  ne'er  forgot  will  be, 
And  for  bonnie  Annie  Laurie 

I'd  lay  me  down  and  dee. 

Her  brow  is  like  the  snow-drift, 
Her  neck  is  like  the  swan, 

Her  face  it  is  the  fairest 

That  e'er  the  sun  shone  on — 

That  e'er  the  sun  shone  on. 
And  dark  blue  is  her  e'e  ; 

And  for  bonnie  Annie  Laurie,  eta 

Like  dew  on  the  gowan  lying, 
Is  the  fa'  o'  her  fairy  feet; 

And  like  winds  in  summer  sighing, 
Her  voice  is  low  and  sweet — 

Her  voice  is  low  and  sweet, 
And  she's  a'  the  world  to  me: 

And  for  bonnie  Annie  Laurie,  eta 


EORY  O'mORK. 


RORY  O'MORE. 

Young  Rory  O'Mare  courted  Kathaleen  Bawn — 
He  was  bold  as  a  hawk,  and  she  soft  as  the  dawn; 
He  wished  in  his  heart  pretty  Kathaleen  to  please, 
And  he  thoirght  the  best  way  to  do  that  was  to  tease. 
VNow,  Rory,  be  aisy,"  sweet  Kathaleen  would  cry, 
iteproof  on  lier  lip,  but  the  smile  in  her  eye ; 
*'  With  your  tricks,  I  don't  know  in  truth  what  I'm  about 
Faith,  you've  teased  till  I've  put  on  my  cloak  inside  out." 
"0  jewel,"  says  Rory,  "that  same  is  the  way 
You've  thrated  my  heart  for  this  many  a  day; 
And  'tis  plazed  that  I  am,  and  why  not,  to  be  sure  ? 
For  'tis  all  for  good  luck,"  says  bold  Rory  O'More. 

"Indeed,  then,"  says  Kathaleen,  "don't  think  of  the  like, 
For  I  half  gave  a  promise  to  soothering  Mike ; 
The  ground  that  I  walk  on  he  loves,  I'll  be  bound." 
"Faith,"  says  Rory,  "I'd  rather  love  you  than  the  ground.** 
"Now,  Rory,  I'll  cry,  if  you  don't  let  me  go ; 
Sure  I  dream  every  night  that  I'm  hating  you  so." 
"Ohl"  says  Rory,  "that  same  I'm  delighted  to  hear, 
For  dhrames  always  go  by  conthraries,  my  dear; 
O  jewel,  keep  dhraming  that  same  till  you  die, 
And  Morning  will  give  dirty  Nigrit  the  black  lie; 
And  'tis  plazed  that  I  am,  and  why  not,  to  be  sure  ? 
Since  'tis  all  for  good  luck,"  says  bold  Rory  O'More. 

"  Arrah,  Kathaleen,  my  darling,  you've  teased  me  enough, 
And  I've  thrashed, for  your  sake,  Dinny  Grimes  and  Jim  Duff; 
And  I've  made  myself,  drinking  your  health,  quite  a  baste; 
So  I  think,  after  that,  I  may  talk  to  the  praste." 
Then  Rory,  the  rogue,  stole  his  arms  round  her  neck — 
So  soft  and  so  white,  without  freckle  or  speck — 
And  he  looked  in  her  eyes,  that  were  beaming  with  light, 
And  he  kissed  her  sweet  lips,  don't  you  think  he  was  right? 
"Now,  Rory,  leave  off,  sirl  you'll  hug  me  no  more — 
That's  eight  times  to-day  that  you've  kissed  me  before." 
"Then  here  goes  another,"  says  he,  "to  make  sure, 
For  there's  luck  in  odd  numbers,"  says  Rory  O'More. 
6 


i>0  THE   FINE   OULD   IRISH   QINTLEMAN. 


THE  PINE  OULD  IRISH  GINTLEMAN. 

I'll  sing  you  a  fine  ould  song,  made  by  a  find  ould  Paddy's 
pate, 

Of  a  fine  ouki  Irish  gintleman,  who  had  the  divil  a  taste  of 
an  es5«te, 

Except  a  fine  ould  patch  of  pitatys  that  he  liked  exceed- 
ingly to  ate, 

For  they  were  beef  to  him,  and  mutton  too,  and  barring  a 
red  herring  or  a  rusty  rasher  of  bacon  now  and  thin, 
almost  every  other  sort  of  mate ; 

Yet  this  fine  ould  Irish  gintleman  was  one  of  the  rale  ould 
stock  I 

His  cabin- walls  were  covered  o'er  with  fine  ould  Irish  mud 
Because  he  couldn't  afford  to  have  any  paper  hangings,  and 

between  you  and  me  he  wouldn't  give  a  pin  for  them 

if  he  could ; 
And  jist  as  proud  as  Julius  Sayzer,  or  Alixander  the  Great^ 

this  independent  ragamufi&n  stood. 
With  a  glass  of  fine  ould  Irish  whiskey  in  his  fist,  which 

he's  decidedly  of  opinion  will  do  a  mighty  dale  of 

good, 
To  this  fine  ould  Irish  gintleman,  all  of  the  rale  ould  stock! 

Now  this  fine  ould  Irish  gintleman  wore  mighty  curious 

clothes — 
Though,  for  comfort,  I'll  be  bail  that  they'd  bate  any  of 

your  fashionable  beaux; 
For  when  the  sun  was  very  hot,  the  gintle  wind  right 

through  his  ventilation  garments  most  beautifully 

blows ; 
And  he's  never  troubled  with  any  corns,  and  I'll  tell  you 

why — because  he  despises  the  wakeness  of  wearing 

any  thing  as  hard  as  leather  on  his  toes; 
Yet  this  fine  ould  Irish  gintleman  was  one  of  the  rale  ould 

stock  I 

Now  this  fine  ould  Irish  gintleman  has  a  mighty  curious 
knack 


1HE    FINE    OULD    HUSH    GINTLEMJWN.  61 

Of  flourishing  a  tremendous  great  shillaly  in  his  hand,  and 

lettino:  it  drop  down  with  a  most  uncompromising 

whack ; 
So,  of  most  superior  shindies,  you  may  take  your  oath,  if 

you  ever  happen  to  be  called  upon,  for  it  he  very 

nearly  never  had  a  lack; 
And  it's  very  natural,  and  not  at  all  surprising,  to  suppose 

that  the  fine  ould  Irish  mud  was  well  acquainted 

with  the  back 
Of  thks  fine  ould  Irish  gintleman,  all  of  the  rale  oild  stockl 

This  fine  ould  Irish  gintleman  he  was  once  out  upon  a 
spree, 

And,  as  many  a  fine  ould  Irish  gifitleman  has  done,  and 
more  betoken  will  do  to  the  end  of  time,  he  got 
about  as  dhrunk  as  he  could  be ; 

His  senses  was  completely  mulvathered,  and  the  conse- 
quence was  that  he  could  neither  hear  nor  see ; 

So  they  thought  he  was  stone  dead  and  gone  intirely — so 
the  best  thing  they  could  do  would  be  to  have  him 
waked  and  buried  dacintly. 

Like  a  fine  ould  Irish  gintleman,  all  of  the  rale  ould  stock ! 

So  this  fine  ould  Irish  gintleman  he  was  laid  out  upon  a 

bed. 
With  half  a  dozen  candles  at  his  heels,  and  two  or  three 

dozen,  more  or  less,  about  his  head ; 
But  when  the  whiskey-bottle  was  uncorked,  he  couldn't 

stand  it  any  longer,  so  he  riz  right  up  in  bed — 
"And  when  sich  mighty  fine  stuff  as  that  is  going  about," 

says  he,  "ye  don't  think  I'd  be  sich  a  soft-headed 

fool  as  to  be  dead?" 
Oh,  this  fine  ould  Irish  gintleman  it  was  mighty  hard  to 

kill! 


"  Pat,  is  it  a  son  or  a  daughter  that  your  sister  has 
got?" 

"  Faith,  I  don't  yet  know  whether  I  am  an  uncle  or  an 
aunt." 


51  PEAYER-BOOKS   AND  CORKSCREWS. 

PRAYER-BOOKS  AND  CORKSCREWS. 

A  Song  with  a  Moral. 

Air — "Derry  down.'" 

Twelve  parsons  once  went  to  a  'Squire's  to  dine, 
Who  was  famous  for  giving  good  ven'son  and  wine; 
All  great  friends  of  the  cloth,  with  good  living  in  view, 
Quite  grace-full  they  sat  down,  as  parsons  shouki  do. 
OhoriLS — Derry  down,  etc. 

A  wicked  young  whipster,  our  worthy  'Squire's  cousin. 
Whispered,  "  Cousin,  I  boldly  will  lay  you  a  dozen, 
Though  here  we've  a  dozen  of  parsons,  God  wot, 
Not  one  of  the  twelve  has  a  prayer-book  gotl" 

Derry  down,  etc. 

"Agreed!"  cried  the  'Squire;  "coz,  we  must  not  be  loth 
Such  a  wager  to  lay,  for  the  sake  of  the  cloth ; 
The  parsons,  no  doubt,  to  confute  you  are  able, 
Bo  we'll  bring,  with  the  dinner,  the  bet  on  the  table." 
Derry  down,  etc. 

Dinner  came — cried  the  'Squire,  "A  new  grace  I  will  say; 
Has  any  one  here  got  a  prayer-book,  pray  ?'' 
Quite  glum  looked  the  parsons,  and  with  one  accord 
Cried,  "  Mine's  lost"— "Mine's  at  home"—"  Mine's  at  church, 
by  the  Lordl"  Derry  down,  etc. 

Quoth  our  cousin,  "  Dear  'Squire,  I  my  wager  have  won, 
But  another  I  purpose  to  win  ere  I've  done; 
Though  the  parsons  could  not  bring  a  prayer-book  to  view, 
I  the  same  bet  will  lay  they  have  each  a  corkscrew  1" 
Derry  down,  etc. 

^'Done — donel"  roared  the  'Squire. — "Hello,  butler  I  bring 

nearer 
That  excellent  magnum  of  ancient  Madeira." 


JANE   O'M ALLEY.  kZ 

Twaa  brought. —  "Lot'3  decant  it — a  corkscrew,   good 

John." 
Here  each  of  the  parsons  roared  out,  "  I've  got  one  I" 
Derry  down,  etc. 

MORAL. 

But  let  us  not  censure  oir  parsons  for  this — 
"WhcQ  a  thing's  in  its  place,  it  can  ne'er  come  amiss: 
Pra^  jr-books  wonPt  serve  for  corkscrews;  and  I'm  such  a 

sinner, 
Thoik^h  a  sermon  I  like,  I  don't  want  it  at  dinner. 

Derry  down,  etc. 


JANE  O'MALLEY. 

I'll  tell  thee  a  tale  of  a  maiden's  veil, 

It  was  worn  by  Jane  O'Malley ; 
On  the  Highland  green  her  form  was  seen, 
But  she  now  sleeps  in  the  valley  1 
Chorus — She  now  sleeps. 

She  now  sleeps  in  the  valley. 

One  year  ago,  when  the  sun  was  low, 

Along  with  Elwyn  Ally, 
To  chat  and  talk,  she  took  a  walk — 

But  she  now  sleeps  in  the  valley  1 

She  now  sleeps,  etc. 

They  talked  of  love — she  stood  above 

A  rocky  clifif,  with  Ally : 
AJasl  she  fell — he  could  not  save — 

And  she  now  sleeps  in  the  valley  1 

She  now  sleeps,  etc. 

^'Ilwy  searched  the  ground  till  the  spot  was  found, 
Where  struggled  Jane  O'Malley — 

Where  the  rock  was  cleft,  l^er  veil  was  left, 
And  she  now  sleeps  in  the  valley  1 

She  now  sleeps,  etc. 

6» 


64  LODGINGS  m  PAT  M'GARADIE'S. 

LODGINGS  IN  PAT  McGAEADIB'S. 

A  Rollicking  Irish  Song. 
Sung  by  Fred  May. 
{  AiB — "  Barney  McFinnegan." 

Some  folks  know  the  way  for  to  thrive, 
•   In  spite  of  the  wcrld's  adversity — 
And  enjoy  all  the  gt^od  things  ahve, 

When  others  are  dying  from  scarcity. 
Two  Paddies,  I  very  well  know, 

They  made  of  misfortune  a  paradise ; 
They  came  from  sweet  Donoghaloo, 

And  took  lodgings  in  Pat  McGraradie's. 

G horns — Whack,  fol  de  rol,  eta 

Now  they  spoke  to  a  grocer  hard  by, 

And  prevailed  on  the  man  for  to  tick  'em; 
But  the  payment  was  "  all  in  my  eye," 

For  the  rascals  intended  for  to  trick  him. 
So  they  ate  as  they  ne'er  did  before. 

And  smacked  their  lips  wid  the  rarities^ 
Saying,  "  Mate  and  drink  in  the  store, 

And  lodgings  in  Pat  McGaradie's  I" 

Whack,  fol  de  rol,  etc. 

They  brought  in  every  night,  to  their  pad, 
The  boys  just  come  o'er  to  the  shearing; 

Be  the  hokeyl  and  that  was  the  squad 
That  could  give  the  victuals  a  tearing  1 

"Fire  away,  ladsl  there's  plenty  o'  more- 
Taste  your  lips  wid  the  rarities ; 

There's  mate  and  dhrink  in  the  store, 
And  lodgings  in  Pat  McGaradie's  1" 

Whack,  fol  de  rol,  eW 

Sure,  they  made  knives  of  their  fists 
(For  there's  many  a  rule  in  the  navy), 

And  Paddy  was  up  to  the  wrists, 
Dealing  them  handfuls  of  gravy  ! 


LODGINGS  'N  PAT  m'GARADIE'S.  5& 

"  Slash  away,  till  your  bellies  are  sore — 

Show  them  your  at:eing  dexterities. 
There's  mate  and  dhriuk  in  the  store, 

And  lodgings  in  Pat  McGaradie's  I" 

Whack,  fol  de  rol,  eto 

i 
The  porter  and  ale  were  marked  "  tay,"  ^ 

And  the  whiskey  "spice"  and  "onions;'* 
And  they  cried,  "Lei,  us  all  tear  away, 

And  give  our  stomachs  new  linings  I 
Such  luck  Diver  happened  before — 

Fill  up  yer  cups  wid  the  rarities; 
There's  mate  and  dhrink  in  the  store, 

And  lodgings  in  Pat  McGaradie's!" 

Whack,  fol  de  rol,  eta 

The  dogs,  from  all  quarters  around. 

Were  never  before  so  befriended ; 
And  while  the  good  things  did  abound, 

The  beggars  were  duly  attended. 
"  Now  let  us  be  kind  to  the  poor, 

And  we'll  get  a  good  name  for  our  charities; 
There's  mate  and  dhrink  in  the  store. 

And  lodgings  in  Pat  McGaradie's!" 

Whack,  fol  de  rol,  eta 

But,  the  grocer's  account  being  due, 

He  asked  for  his  money  quite  civil, 
And  was  tould  by  the  beggarly  crew 

To  go  and  seek  that  from  the  divil ! 
With  rage  how  he  cursed  and  he  swore  I 

They  had  ruined  him  ateing  his  rarities; 
He  turned  bankrupt,  and  shut  up  his  store, 

Through  those  doings  at  Pat  McGaradie's. 

Whack,  fol  de  rol,  etc. 


If  a  fellow  has  but  one  eye,  let  him  get  a  wife,  and  ah* 
will  be  his  other  I. 


THE  BAi^KS   or   CLAUDT. 


THE  BANKS  OP  OLAUDT. 


It  was  on  a  summer's  morning,  all  in  the  month  of  May, 
Down  hj  yon  flowery  garden,  Where  Betsey  did  stray; 
I  overheard  a  damsel  in  sorrow  to  complain, 
All  for  her  absent  lover,  that  ploughs  the  raging  main. 

I  went  up  to  this  fair  maid,  and  put  her  iu  surprise ; 

I  own  she  did  not  know  me,  I  being  in  disguise. 

Said  I,  "My  charming  creature,  my  joy  and  he-art's  delight, 

How  far  do  you  travel  this  dark  and  rainy  night?" 

**  The  way,  kind  sir,  to  Claudy,  if  you  please  to  show — 
Pity  a  maid  distracted,  for  there  I  have  to  gol 
I  am  in  search  of  a  faithless  young  man,  Johnny  is  his  name, 
All  on  the  banks  of  Claudy  I  am  told  he  does  remain. 

**  If  Johnny  was  here  this  night,  he  would  keep  me  from  all 

harm — 
He  is  in  the  field  of  battle,  all  in  his  uniform : 
As  he's  in  the  field  of  battle,  his  foes  he  will  destroy — 
Like  a  ruling  king  of  honor,  he  fought  in  the  wars  of  Truy.'» 

"It's  six  weeks  and  better  since  your  true-love  left  the 

shore ; 
He's  cruising  the  wide  ocean,  where  foaming  billows  roar* 
He's  cruising  the  wild  ocean,  for  honor  and  gain — 
I  was  told  the  ship  was  wrecked  off"  the  coast  of  Spain." 

"When  she  heard  the  dreadful  news,  she  fell,  in  despair, 
To  wringing  of  her  hands  and  tearing  of  her  hair. 
"Since  he  is  gone  and  left  me,  no  man  will  I  take; 
In  some  lonesome  valley  I  will  wander  for  his  sake  I" 

His  heart  was  filled  with  joy — no  longer  could  he  stand; 
He  flew  into  her  arms,  saying,  "  Betsey,  I  am  the  man — 
I  am  the  faithless  young  man  whom  you  thought  was  slain, 
And,  since  we're  met  on  Claudy's  banks,  we'll  never  part 
again." 


FLOW   GENTLY,    SWEET   AFTON.  6t 

BALL  BRILL  AND  SQUINTIUa  WILLi 

A  Simple  little  Ditty. 

Are— ''The  Girl  I  left  behind  me." 

I  LOVED  a  prrrl  called  Pretty  Sal, 

In  courtship  so  particular — 
Just  three  feet  high,  she'd  but  one  eye, 

Her  breath  was  like  the  auricula. 
Her  flaxen  pate  and  waddling  gait 

Did  seem  so  like  divinity — 
So  sweet  her  leer,  I  cried,  ''  Oh,  dear, 

I'll  love  you  for  infinity  1" 

k  sent  her  word,  on  a  fine  card, 

With  figures  emblematical, 
That  I  would  come  and  take  her  home — 

In  that  I  was  dogmatical  1 
Jdut  she  said,  "  No !  if  I  said  so 

From  now  to  all  infinity, 
i'hstt  I  should  find  it  was  her  mind 

With  me  to  have  no  afifinityl" 

One  day,  oh  dear  !  as  you  shall  hear, 

By  my  own  incongruity, 
I  met  Sal  Brill  with  Squinting  Will, 

In  closest  contiguity. 
Oh,  then  she  said,  "  Sweet  Will  I'll  wed, 

To  end  all  ambiguity; 
Gibby,  good-by  1  you're  '  all  my  eye' — 

We'll  live  in  continuity." 


FLOW  GENTLY,  SWEET  APTON. 

b\^)W  gently,  sweet  Afton,  among  thy  green  braes; 
Flow  gently — I'll  sing  thee  a  song  in  thy  praise ; 
My  Mary's  asleep  by  thy  murmuring  stream; 
Flow  gently,  sweet  Afton,  disturb  not  her  dream. 


58  THE  LANDLADY  OF  FRANCE. 

Thou  dove,  whose  soft  echo  resounds  from  the  hilll 
Thou  green-crested  lapwing,  with  noise  loud  and  shdll! 
Ye  wild  whistling  warblers  I  your  music  forbear  I 
I  charge  you  disturb  not  the  slumbering  fair. 

Thy  crystal  stream,  Afton,  how  lovely  it  glides. 
And  winds  by  the  cot  where  my  Mary  resides  I 
There  oft,  as  mild  evening  weeps  over  the  lea, 
Thy  sweet-scented  groves  shade  my  Mary  and  me. 
Flow  gently,  sweet  Afton,  among  thy  green  braes; 
Flow  gently,  sweet  river,  the  theme  of  my  lays; 
My  Mary's  asleep  by  thy  murmuring  stream — 
Flow  gently,  sweet  Afton,  disturb  not  her  dream. 


THE  LANDLADY  OF  FRANCE. 

A  Rare  Old  Oomio  Soug. 

Air—"  Yankee  jDoodle." 

A  LANDLADY  of  France  loved  an  officer,  'tis  said. 
And  this  officer  he  dearly  loved  her  brandy,  oh. 

Sighed  she,  '•  I  love  this  officer,  although  his  nose  is  red, 
And  his  legs  are  what  his  regiment  call  bandy,  oh." 

But  when  the  bandy  officer  was  ordered  to  the  coast. 

How  she  tore  her  lovely  locks,  that  looked  so  sandy,  oh  I 
"Adieu,  my  soull"  said  she;  ''if  you  write,  pray  pay  the 

post — 
And,  before  we  part,  let's  take  a  drop  of  brandy,  oh." 

She  filled  him  out  a  bumper  just  before  he  left  the  town, 
And  another  for  herself  so  neat  and  handy,  oh ; 

S«  they  kept  their  spirits  up  by  pouring  spirits  down, 
For  love  is  like  the  colic,  cured  with  brandy,  oh. 

•*Take  a  bottle  on't,"  says  she,  *'  for  you're  going  into  campt 
In  your  tent,  you  know,  my  love,  'twill  be  the  dandy,  oh.'* 
"You're  right,  my  love," says  he,  "for  a  tent  is  verydamft 
-— 2lJj(J  *ti8  better  with  my  tent  to  take  some  brandy,  oh." 


THE   HAZEL-DELL.  69 

THE  HAZEL-DELL. 
fBj  permiscrfon  of  tho  publishers,  Messrs.  W.  Hall  &  Bov.) 

In  the  Hazel-Dell  my  Nelly's  sleeping — 

Nelly,  loved  so  long  1 
And  my  lonely,  lonely  watch  I'm  keeping, 

Nelly  lost  and  gone. 
Here  in  moonlight  often  we  have  wandered 

Through  the  silent  shade ; 
Now  where  leafy  branches  drooping  downward. 

Little  Nelly's  laid. 

Glioriis. 

All  alone  my  watch  I'm  keeping, 
In  the  Hazel-Dell ; 

For  my  darling  Nelly's  near  me  sleeping- 
Nelly,  dear,  farewell! 

In  the  Hazel-Dell  my  Nelly's  sleeping. 

Where  the  flowers  wave ; 
And  the  silent  stars  are  nightly  weeping 

O'er  poor  Nelly's  grave. 
Hopes  that  once  ray  bosom  fondly  cherished, 

Smile  no  more  on  me ; 
Every  dream  of  joy,  alas  !  has  perished, 

Nelly,  dear,  with  thee. 

Ali  alone  my  watch,  eta 

Now  Tm  weary,  friendless,  and  forsaken, 
Watching  here  alone  ; 
'       Nelly,  thou  no  more  wilt  fondly  cheer  me 
[  With  thy  loving  tone. 

Tet  forever  shall  thy  gentle  image 

In  my  memory  dwell  ; 
JLnd  my  tears  thy  lonely  grave  shall  moisten— 
Nelly,  dear,  farewell  I 

All  alone  my  watch,  eta 


IM>  I'll  be  no  submissive  wife. 


I'LL  BE  NO  SUBMISSIVE  WIFE. 

I'll  be  no  submissive  wife, 

No,  not  I — no,  not  I ; 
I'll  not  be  a  slave  for  life, 

No,  not  I — no,  not  I: 
1*11  be  no  submissive  wife, 

No,  not  I — no,  not  I; 
I'll  not  be  a  slave  for  life, 

No,  not  I — no,  not  1 1 
Think  you,  on  a  wedding-day, 
That  I  said,  as  others  say, 
"Love,  and  honor,  and  obey— 
Love,  and  honor,  and  obey"? 
No,  no,  no,  no,  no,  no,  no,  no,  no,  not  1 1 
Chorus, 
"  Love,  and  honor,  and  obey — 
Love,  and  honor,  and  obey"? 
No,  no,  no,  no,  no,  no,  no,  no,  no,  not  I; 
No,  no,  no,  no,  no,  no,  no,  no,  no,  not  I; 
No,  no,  no,  no,  no,  no,  no,  no,  no,  no,  not  I 

I  to  dulness  don't  incline, 

No,  not  I — no,  not  I ; 
Go  to  bed  at  half-past  nine  ? 

No,  not  I — no,  not  1 1 
I  to  dulness  don't  incline, 

No,  not  I — no,  not  i ; 
Go  to  bed  at  half-past  nine? 

No,  not  I — no,  not  I ! 
Should  a  humdrum  husband  say 
That  at  home  I  ought  to  stay. 
Do  you  think  that  I'll  obey — 
Do  you  think  that  I'll  obey  ? 
No,  no,  no,  no,  no,  no,  no,  no,  no,  not  I* 
Do  you  think  that  I'll  obey — 
Do  you  think  that  I'll  obey  ? 
No,  no,  no,  no,  no,  no,  no,  no,  no,  not  1 
No,  no,  no,  etc. 


NO  I  no!  61 

NO!  NO! 
The  celebrated  Duett  in  tlie  Bnrletta  of  "  No." 

4b  Bang  by  James  Dunn  and  Wrs.  W.  G.  Jonbs,  at  the  New  Boworf 

Theatre. 

Air — "  Isabel." 

He.  Will  you  not  bless,  with  one  sentence,  a  lover 

Whose  bosom  beats  only  for  you? 
The  cause  of  your  anger  I  pr'ythee  discover— 

Pray  tell  me  the  reason  for  ? 
She.  No! 

He.  Say,  dearest,  you  still  love  me  ? 
She.  No! 

He.  Oh,  how  can  you  doom  me  to  sorrow  ? 

Yet  once  again  bless  me  with — 
She.  No  ! 

He.  And  promise  to  meet  me  to-morrow; 

Promise — 
She.  No! 

He.  Pr'ythee— 

Shb.  No! 

Hb.  Don't  say  no! 

Hjj.  Must  we,  then,  dearest  Maria,  sever  ? 

And  can  you,  then,  part  with  me  ? 
Shbs.  NoM 

He.  Then  swear  by  yon  sun  to  be  mine  only  ever ; 

You  cannot  refuse  me,  love  I 
She.  No! 

He.  You  hate  not  your  fond  lover  ? 
She.  No! 

He.  Your  hand  to  my  faithful  heart  pressing, 

Say,  does  it  offend  you,  love  ? 

No! 
He.  Then  to  marry  will  not  be  distressing — 

Answer  I 
She.  No  I 

He.  Once  more. 

Shb.  Not  nol  nol  ool 

6 


BACHELOR  BARNEY   0  NEIL. 


BACHELOR  BARITET  O'UEIL. 

Song  by  William  W.  Eeeve,  comedian  and  comic  vocalist,  at  tli« 
Theatres  and  Music-Halls. 

AiK — '^  Oh,  dear,  what  can  the  matter  be  ?" 

OOH,  botheration  I  Miss  Judy  O'Flanagan, 

Give  rae  my  heart  back,  and  make  me  a  man  agin ; 

Such  a  conflict  of  passions  I  niver  can  stand  agin — 

Och,  blur  an'  ouns  I  what  can  I  ail? 
My  legs  do  so  trimble,  my  teeth  do  so  chatter; 
My  heart  is  as  soft  as  a  basin  of  batter ; 
Och,  gramachree  !  what  the  divil's  the  matter 

Witii  poor  Misther  Barney  O'Neil? 

One  evening  alone  in  the  fields  I  did  meet  her — 
"Och,  Judy,"  thinks  I,  "  yer  a  swate,  lovely  craiture." 
Her  cheeks  were  as  round  as  a  maily  potatur, 

Her  step  airy,  light,  and  ginteel. 
Her  glance  was  as  keen  as  a  dart  or  an  arrow ; 
In  one  moment  it  shot  me  right  plump  to  the  marrow 
And  I  felt  like  a  rattlesnake  in  a  wheelbarrow — 

Faix,  it  bothered  poor  Barney  O'Neil  1 

Now  after  a  twelvemonth  of  coortship  I'd  tarried, 

I  bothered  her  so  to  consent  to  be  married : 

She  gave  it,  and  quickly  was  to  the  priest  carried, 

And  I  there  made  her  Misthress  O'Neil. 
Our  neighbors  and  frinds  were  all  merry  and  frisky, 
And,  afther  partaking  of  lashings  of  whiskey, 
They  bade  us  adieu,  wishing  joy  to  us  briskly, 

And  a  young  Misther  Barney  O'Neil ! 

By  night  and  by  day  did  I  swear  I  did  love  her, 
"While  she  swately  promised  she'd  ne'er  prove  a  rover; 
But  the  honeymoon  scarcely  a  week  had  passed  over, 

When  a  divil  was  Misthress  O'Neil  I 
At  clawing,  och  1  faith,  not  a  woman  could  bate  her; 
And  thin,  as  to  tongue,  she'd  the  divil's  own  clatter; 
Och,  sure,  but  I  soon  wondered  what  was  the  matter 
With  poor  Misther  Barney  O'Neil. 


THE   GAY   LITTLE    POSTMAN.  63 

One  eveniiig,  ocb  1  surely  Ould  Nick  wouldn't  match  her, 

Returnin'  home  airly,  I  liappened  to  catch  her 

Wid  her  arras  round  the  neck  of  a  tall  sarjint-major— 

Och,  blur  an'  ouns,  how  I  did  feel ! 
Of  Judy's  foul  parjury  I  did  remind  her, 
And  bundled  the  major  quick  out  of  the  winder •,• 
Manewhile,  like  a  furnace,  or  blazing-hot  cinder, 

Burnt  poor  Misther  Barney  O'Neil. 

Next  mornin'  the  major  was  kilt  in  a  dhuel; 
Judy  be  wept  him,  and  callf^d  the  Fates  cruel- 
Fell  sick  of  a  fever,  and  d^ad  of  hot  gruel — 

Death  quieted  Misthress  O'Neil. 
I  miss  her,  because  she  no  longer  can  taize  me; 
No  longer  I  roam  like  a  man  that  is  crazy, 
So  the  rest  of  me  life  I'll  spind  parfectly  aisy, 

WiU  Bachelor  Barney  O'Neil. 


THE  GAY  LITTLB  POSTMAK. 

An  Old-Style  Comic  Song. 

As  sung  by  all  the  comic  vocalists. 

AiK — "Mr,  Walker.'* 

But  a  short  way  up-town,  though  I  mustn't  tell  whera^ 
A  shoemaker  married  a  maiden  so  fair, 
Who  a  month  after  wedlock,  'tis  truth  I  declare, 
Fell  in  love  with  a  gay  little  postman. 

Her  person  was  thin,  genteel,  and  tall, 
Her  carroty  hair  did  in  ringlets  fall; 
And  while  the  cobbler  worked  hard  at  his  stall, 
She  was  watching  this  gay  little  postman. 

He  was  just  four  feet  six  in  height, 
But  a  well-made  figure  to  the  sight; 
He  walked  like  a  monument  bolt  upright — 
Mr.  Walker,  the  gay  little  postman. 


say, 


64  '  THE    GAY    LITTLK    FuSlAlAN. 

His  toes  he  turned  out;  hv*.-  liad  brio-lit  black  oyes^ 
His  nose  was  more  th-an  il^e  common  size, 
And  he  really  looked,  without  any  lies. 

Too  genteel  and  neat  for  a  postman. 

Resolved  she  was  tx)  get  in  his  way : 
So,  without  any  trouble,  she  met  him  one  day, 
And  says  she,  "  Have  you  got  e'er  a  letter,  I  s 
For  me,  Mister  gay  little  postman  ?" 

Says  he,  "  I  don't  know  yoi» ''    Says  she,  "  Good  1»  i 
I  live  the  next  door,  the  second  floor  back ; 
My  husband's  a  cobbler — 'tis  all  in  your  track." 

"It's  all  right,"  says  the  gay  little  postman, 

Next  morning — I  can't  tell  you  what  she  was  at — 
She  lelt  her  heart  suddenly  beat  pit-a-pat, 
When  slie  heard  ai  the  street-door  a  double  "Rat-tft^t** 
And  in  came  the  gay  little  postman. 

"Here's  a  letter,"  says  he — the  cunning  elf! — 
"The  postage  is  paid — so't  needs  no  pelf." 
In  fact,  he  had  vvriiten  the  letter  himself, 

And  brought  it.  the  gay  little  postman  1 

With  love  in  his  eyes  he  then  at  her  did  stare; 
Says  he,  "I  ne'er  saw  a  lady  so  fair; 
I  always  was  panial  to  carroty  hair — 

"  was,"  says  the  gay  little  postman. 

"That  your  husband  ill  treats  you  I  can't  suppose" — 
"Yes,  he  gives  me  bad  words,  and  sometimas  blows; 
He's  an  ugly  man,  and  has  got  no  nose" — 

"I  have  I"  says  the  gay  little  postman. 

His  kindness  was  such,  that  it  knew  no  end; 
And  to  prove  that  he  really  was  a  true  friend, 
He  took  her  spouse  three  pair  of  shoes  to  mend — 
Did  Walker,  the  gay  little  postman. 


MEET   ME,    MISS   MOLLY   MA  LONE.  68 

They  were  soled  and  heeled  without  delay; 
To  the  cobbler  he  had  so  much  to  say, 
He  got  the  shoes,  but  as  for  tbe  pay — 

"Chalk  it  down,"  says  the  gay  little  postman. 

Ever  sinee  then,  they've  led  a  cat-and-dog  life ; 
Their  home,  bed,  and  board  have  been  nothing  but  strifoj 
The  cobbler  was  "done,"  and  so  was  his  wife, 
By  Walker,  the  gay  little  postman : 

Por,  by  way  of  a  finish  to  this  vile  act, 
The  lady  (depend  on't,  'tis  a  fact) 
Has  brought  him  a  boy,  the  image  exact 
Of  Walker,  the  gay  little  postman  I 


MEET  ME,  MISS  MOLLY  MALONE, 
A  Parody  on  "  Meet  Me  by  Moonlight  alone." 
Bung  by  Gko.  C.  Edeson,  comedian  and  vocalist 

Meet  me,  Miss  Molly  Malone, 

In  the  grove  at  the  end  of  the  vale ; 
But  be  sure  you  don't  come  there  alone — 

Bring  a  pot  of  your  master's  strong  ale, 
With  a  nice  bit  of  beef  and  some  bread ; 

Some  pickles,  or  cucumbers  green, 
Or  a  nice  little  dainty  pig's  head — 

'Tis  the  loveliest  tit-bit  e'er  seen. 

Then  meet  me,  etc. 

Pastry  may  do  for  the  gay, 

Old  maids  may  find  comfort  in  tea ; 
But  there's  something  about  ham  and  beef 

That  agrees  a  deal  better  with  me. 
Remember  my  cupboard  is  bare — 

Then  come,  if  my  dear  life  you  prize ; 
I'd  have  lived  the  last  fortnight  on  air. 

But  you  sent  me  two  nice  mutton-pies  I 
Then  meet  me,  eto^ 
6* 


•6  DOCTOR  O'TOOLH. 

DOCTOR  O'TOOLE, 

And  his  Illigant  School. 

As  snug  by  Ed  Bbebt,  comedian  and  yocalist 

AiK — "  Derry  down." 

In  this  wonderful  age,  when  most  men  go  to  col>*^ 
And  every  man's  head  has  a  hatful  of  knowledg*^ 
*Twill  soon  be  a  wonder  to  meet  with  a  fool, 
"When  such  men  are  abroad  as  Professor  O'Toole— 

Great  Doctor  O'Toole,  and  his  illigant  school 

There  are  very  few  men,  like  O'Toole,  who  can  teach: 
If  the  head  won't  respond,  he  applies  to  the  breech! 
And  whacking  them  well,  till  with  blows  they  are  full, 
"Let's  knock  in  the  larniu'  1"  says  Doctor  O'Toole. 
Great  Doctor  O'Toole,  etc. 

One  morning,  the  Doctor  went  out  to  his  walk, 
And  he  saw  on  the  door  his  own  portrait  in  chalk: 
That  morning  he  flogged  every  boy  in  the  school  I — 
"It's  a  part  of  my  system,"  says  Doctor  O'Toole. 

Great  Doctor  O'Tooie,  eta 

"  Gret  on  with  your  lessons  as  fast  as  you  can. 
For  knowledge  is  sweeter  than  eggs  and  fried  ham  ^ 
Don't  try  to  deceive  me,  like  ducks  in  a  pool, 
Or  111  blow  you  to  blazes  1"  says  Doctor  O'Toole. 

Great  Doctor  O'Toole,  etc 

"And  now,  my  dear  children,  bear  always  in  mind 
That  wordg  without  meaning  are  nothing  but  wind; 
Accept  of  all  favors,  make  that  the  first  rule, 
Or  you're  a  parcel  of  asses  1"  says  Doctor  O'Toole. 

Great  Doctor  O'Toole,  etc. 

"If  you  go  to  a  house,  and  they  ask  you  to  eat, 
Don't  hold  your  head  down,  and  refuse  the  good  meat 
But  say  you  will  drink  too,  or,  just  like  the  mule, 
You're  unworthy  of  lessons  from  Doctor  O'Toole." 

Great  Doctor  O'Toole,  etc. 


HiaOINS'S  BALI  67 

**  When  your  father  and  mother  have  turned  their  backa 
Don't  kick  up  a  row  with  the  dogs  and  the  cats ; 
Nor  tie  the  pig's  tail  to  the  table  or  stool, 
^or  you're  a  parcel  of  divilsl"  says  Doctor  O'Toole. 
Great  Dor1;or  O'Toole,  etc. 

•'But  give  over  fightin',  and  think  of  your  sins, 
Or  I'll  break  every  bone  in  your  irnpudent  skins  1 
Give  over  your  ructions,  don't  think  me  a  fool, 
Or  m  punish  you  blackguards !"  says  Doctor  O'Toole* 
Great  Doctor  O'Toole,  etc 

"Now  the  lessons  are  over,  so  run  away  home; 
Don't  turn  up  your  nose  at  a  crust  or  a  bone : 
Oome  back  in  the  morning,  for  that  is  the  rule, 
A.nd  you'll  get  more  instruction  from  Doctor  O'Toola.* 
Great  Doctor  O'Toole,  eta 


HIGGINS'S  BALL. 

An  Irish  Narrative  in  Ehyinei 

As  sung  by  Frbd  Mat. 

AiKr—"  Paddy  0'Carroll.»' 

ASRAH,  haven't  you  heard  of  Higgins's  ball, 
Where  Fashion's  devotees  so  gay  mustered  all? 
If  not,  and  you'll  listen  to  what  I  describe, 
It's  the  joys  of  a  trip  to  this  musical  tribe. 
There  was  wealthy  ould  citizens  there,  d'ye  see-^- 
The  boys  and  the  girls  dressed  as  fine  as  could  be, 
And  some  out-and-out  buffers,  a  dozen  in  all, 
W©  made  up  our  minds  for  a  trip  to  the  ball. 

Chorus, 
There  was  Barney  O'Fagan  and  Timothy  Hagac, 

Miss  Molly  McGuffin  and  Judy  McCall ; 
Aunts,  uncles,  and  cousins,  and  neighbors  by  dozens, 

All  welting  the  flure  at  ould  Higgins's  ball. 


68  HIGGINS'S   BALL. 

Now,  whin  ready  to  start,  how  the  perople  a  A  stare  I 
We  had  aich  of  us  got  something  patent  and  rare; 
We  made  up  our  minds  we  the  nation  would  stun, 
And  arrived  just  in  time  as  the  ball  had  begun. 
There  ould  Higgins  we  saw  in  his  new  patent  boots— 
(Spoken.)  Bad  lu^k  to  him  1  sure,  his  ould  father,  Barnej 

Higgins,  uiver  wore  any  thing  but  brogues — 
Quite  busy  a-tunin'  the  fiddles  and  flutes ; 
And  a  group  of  musicians,  all  of  the  right  sort. 
Whose  noise  and  whose  whinre  fill  the  room  full  of  sport. 
There  was,  etc. 

Now  the  time  had  arrived  for  the  ball  to  begin, 
And  the  music  struck  up  such  a  terrible  din  1 
Wid  ould  Mistliress  H.  at  the  top  o'  the  dance, 
Each  merry  young  couple  did  quickly  advance. 
Och  1  thin,  what  wid  treadin'  on  aich  other's  toes, 
And  knockin'  our  heads  against  many  a  nose, 
Kickin'  aich  other's  ankles,  we  welted  the  flure, 
While  Higgins  kept  time  wid  the  bar  of  the  dure. 
{Spoken,  by  ould  Higgins.)   Hurrool   lively,  b'yesi     See 
here,  Patsey  MoUoy,  if  I  catch  you  steppin'  on  the 
girls'  skirts,  I  declare  to  my  conscience  I'll  give  you  a 
welt  across  the  head  wid  the  bar  of  the  durel 
There  was,  etc, 

Now  things  went  on  well  till  McGinn iss  the  snob 
From  me  my  young  woman  was  tryin'  to  rob; 
Arrah,  thin  such  a  terrible  fight  did  ensue  I 
And  the  rest  joinin'  in,  at  aich  other  they  flew. 
Peggy  Murphy  called  Higgins  "an  ould  drunken  sot"— 
(Spoken.)  Divil's  cure  to  him,  so  he  was  I     He'd  dhrink 

the  Atlanthic  Say  dhry,  if  it  was  built  of  whiskey — 
Whin  away  at  her  head  flew  the  big  pratee-pot  I 
My  valor,  for  Peggy,  I  very  soon  shows, 
Jist  by  breakin'  the  bridge  of  ould  Higgins's  nose. 
{Spoken.)  Sarves  him  right,  the  dirty  b laggard! 
There  was,  et^ 


A   PARODY.  69 

Now  they  ali  teft  the  place  in  such  a  terrible  mess, 
All  covered  vitb  portions  of  oonnets  and  dres??, 
Until,  quite  e^hai'sted,  they  all  foil  asleep, 
And  there  nfT.i.  luomia'  they  all  lay  in  a  heapl 
(Spoken.)  Tho  dhrunken  bastes,  to  sleep  in  their  clothei^ 

lik«3  pifiT^I 
Now  if  ever  I  venture  to  go  there  again. 
There's  one  thing  I'll  tell,  and  that's  mighty  plain— 
I'll  not  forget  soon,  faix  1  if  ever  at  all. 
The  illigant  fight  we'd  at  Higgins's  ball. 

There  was,  etc. 


PAKODT  ON  "MOTHER,  I'VE  COME  HOME  TO  DIE." 

An  Original  Conglomeration  of  Titles. 
By  E.  T.  Johnston. 

Dear  mother,  I  remember  well 

"That  nice  young  gal  from  New  Jersey;** 
She  said,  *'  Oh  kiss,  but  never  tell!" 

"How  are  you,  black-horse  cavalry?" 
"Then  let  me  like  a  soldier  fall," 

"When  the  swallows  homeward  fly;" 
"  Come,  landlord,  fill  the  flowing  bowl" — 

"  Dear  mother,  I've  come  home  to  die." 

Chorus. 
"  Call  me  pet  names,"  "  Annie  Lisle," 

"  A  bully  boy  with  a  glass  eye ;" 
"Oh,  let  her  ripl  she's  all  0.  K."— 

"  Dear  mother,  I've  come  home  to  die." 

**0h,  hark  !  I  hear  an  angel  sing" 

"I'll  be  free  and  easy  still!" 
•*  X/  love  he  is  a  sailor-boy," 

With  "  The  sword  of  Bunker  HilL" 


to 


Oh,  "Happy,  happy  be  thy  dreams," 
When  you're  "Comin'  thro'  the  rye;*' 

"I  wish  1  was  in  Dixie's  Land" — 

"Dear  mother,  I've  come  home  to  die." 
Call  me,  etc. 

''  Dear  Tom,"  "  'Twas  my  grandma's  advice, ** 

''  Don't  ever  fly  your  kite  too  high;" 
"I'm  over  young  to  marry  yet," 

"Says  the  spider  to  the  fly." 
"We  met  by  chance,"  at  "  Donnybrook  Fair," 

Where  "No  Irish  need  apply:" 
•*  I  dreamt  I  dwelt  in  marble  halls" — 

"Dear  mother,  I've  come  home  to  die." 
Call  me,  etc. 

"Yes,  dearest,  I  will  love  th«e  more," 

"  I'll  hang  my  harp  on  a  willow-tree ;" 
"Our  Billy  was  a  butcher-boy," 

And  "  Sally  is  the  gal  for  me." 
•*A  dainty  plant's  the  Ivy  green," 

"Then,  comrades,  raise  your  banners  high;** 
"I  wish  I  had  a  fat  contract" — 

"  Dear  mother,  I've  come  home  to  die." 
Call  me,  etc. 


Snigsby  keeps  a  diary  since  it  has  become  ftsiiioaaDJf 
Being  in  a  poetical  mood  the  other  evening,  he  made  inn 
following  entry,  which  may  serve  as  a  pattern  to  tiio  w- 
€icted: 

"  A  nuther  day  ia  past  and  gon 
Bill  Jinkins  broke  my  demmy  gon 
I'm  turuiu'  in  at  half-past  six 
The  moon's  a  dumplin',  tiddle  stix." 

What  is  the  apparent  difierence  between  the  Pnnce  of 
Wjfles,  au  orphan,  a  bald  head,  and  a  gorilla?  The  Prince 
of  Wales  is  the  heir  apparent,  an  orphan  has  ne'er  a  parent, 
a  bald  head  has  no  hair  apparent,  and  a  gorilla  has  a  hairy 
parent. 


TOASTS   FOR  ALL   TIllBfi.  *1 

SOCIAL    SENTIMENTS] 

OB, 

Toasts  for  all  Times. 

A  COBWEB  pair  of  breeches,  a  porcupme  saddle,  a  hard* 
trotting  horse,  and  a  long  journey,  to  the  enemies  of  free* 
dom  and  progress ! 

Firmness  in  the  senate,  valor  in  the  field,  and  fortitude 
on  the  waves. 

Cork  to  the  heels,  cash  to  the  pockets,  courage  to  the 
Hearts,  and  concord  to  the  heads,  of  the  soldiers  of  freedom. 

Improvement  to  our  arts,  aud  invention  to  our  artists. 

May  the  Tree  of  Liberty  flourish  around  the  globe,  and 
every  human  being  partake  of  its  fruits  1 

May  the  skins  of  our  foes  be  turned  into  parchment,  and 
our  rights  written  thereon. 

The  three  great  Generals  in  power — General  Peace,  Gen- 
eral Plenty,  and  General  Satisfaction. 

•seife  8,noBB8'a  puiyq  o%  ep-joq  ©qa  jsjgns  JOfj 

'«8L\\  qjBd  sn  iQj  noqi  *^i8ui  eq  o'\  ^Qsm  e^ 

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TOASTS    FOR   ALL   TIMES. 

May  the  devil  never  pay  visits  abroad,  ijor  receive  com- 
pany at  home  1 
May  Fortune  fill  the  cup  when  Charity  guides  the  hand 
Great  men  honest,  and  honest  men  great. 
A  pot  and  a  pipe,  and  a  good-natured  wife, 
Just  to  make  me  feel  happy  the  rest  of  my  life. 
Short  shoes  and  long  corns  to  our  country's  enemiea. 
Champagne  to  our  real  friends,  and  real  pain  to  our  aham 
friends. 

Friendship  in  marble,  animosity  in  dust. 
Envy  in  an   air-pump,  without  a  passage  to   Dreathe 
through. 

May  every  honest  man  turJi  out  a  rogue. 
Lenity  to  the  faults  of  otners,  and  sense  to  discover  oui 
own. 

Health  of  body,  peace  of  mind,  a  clean  shirt,  and  a  dollar 
in  our  pocket. 

Here's  to  Columbia,  the  hope  of  the  world  I 
Long  may  her  navy,  triumphantly  sailing, 
And  army  still  conquer  with  courage  unfailing, 
Their  thunder  forever  'gainst  tyrants  be  hurled  1 
Here's  to  the  man  that  raised  the  goose  that  gave  the 
quill  that  made  the  pen  that  signed  the  Declaration  of  In- 
dependence ! 
May  our  laws  guard  our  liberty,  and  our  liberty  our  lawi. 
Let  the  hoary  miser  toil, 

We  such  sordid  views  despise  ; 

Give  us  wine  and  Beauty's  smile, 

There  each  glowing  rapture  lies. 

Addition  to  our  trade,  multipHcation  to  our  manufactures 

Babtraction  to  our  taxes,  and  reduction  to  useless  offices. 

All  Fortune's  daughters,  except  th^  Oxudbt  Mis-Fortane. 


THi  iva. 


GOOD  BOOKS. 

Sent    Postage-Paid    on    Receipt    of   Price. 

Jack  Johnson's  Jokes  for  tlie  Jolly $  .25 

Snipsnap's  and  Snickerings  of  Simon  Snodgrass 25 

Chips  from  TJncle  Sam's  Jack-Knife 25 

Yale  College  Scrapes .25 

The  Comical  Adventures  of  David  Dnfficks 25 

The  Comic  English  Grammar 25 

Laughing  Gas ;  or,  W  it,  Wisdom  and  Wind 25 

The  Jolly  Joker;  or,  a  Laugh  all  'Round 25 

Uncle  Josh's  Trunk  Full  of  Fun 15 

Courteney's  Dictionary  of  Abbreviations 10 

Five  Hundred  French  Phrases 10 

The  Chairman  and  Speaker's  Guide 10 

How  to  Talk  and  Debate 10 

Mind  your  Stops ;  or,  Punctuation  Made  Easy 10 

Hard  Words  Made  Easy 10 

Chesterfield's  Art  of  Letter- Writing 10 

Etiquette  and  the  Usages  of  Society 10 

How  to  Behave;  or,  The  Spirit  of  Etiquette 10 

Very,  Very  Funny 10 

Blunders  in  Behavior  Corrected 10 

Courtship  Made  Easy 10 

How  to  Woo  and  How  to  Win 10 

The  Comical  Doings  of  a  Funny  Man 10 

Ned  Turner's  Circus  Joke  Book '10 

Ned  Turner's  Clown  Joke  Book 10 

Ned  Turner's  Black  Jokes 10 

Charley  White's  Joke  Book 10 

Black  Wit  and  Darkey  Conversations 10 

Charley  Fox' s  Ethiopian  Comicalities 10 

Broad  Grins  of  the  Laughing  Philosopher 10 

Christy's  Bones  and  Banjo  Songster 10 

Christy's  New  Songster  and  Black  Jokes 10 

The  Irish  Boy  and  Yankee  Girl  Songster ,10 

The  Love  and  Sentimental  Songster 10 

The  Lannigan's  Ball  Songster .10 

Tom  Moore's  Irish  Melodies 10 

Send  for  Complete  Descriptive  Catalogue,  mailed  free. 

DICK  &  FITZGERALD,  Publishers, 

18  ANN  STREET,  NEW  YORK. 


Popular  Song  Books,  sent  Free  of  Postage.    Priee  Ten  Cents 


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CRE/ 


Jlerc 


PRO] 


This  lit 

NUTS  ON 

The  ( 


DICI 


:i:  "4:  TVlll  be  mailed,  postage  paid 
of  TEN  CENTS,  by  tlie  Pablisliers. 


Send  Cash  orders  to  Dick  &  Eiilteerald,  New-York. 


Photomount 

Pamphlet 

Binder 

Gaylord  Bros.,  Inc. 

Makers 

Stockton,  Calif. 

FAT.  JAN.  21. 1908 


YA  09094 


925314 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  UBRARY 


